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"Don't mind him," Earendil hushed Miyuki. "Your uncle Daeron is just a bit of a worrier. It's understandable, considering he's traveled before, and met some not-so-nice people, but I'm sure Emile will be just fine."

He looked at Daeron pointedly. "And if not, we will all be here to keep an eye on him."

Daeron nodded, then turned back to watch the door, waiting for the human to come out so that he could size him up.

Earendil chuckled at Lin's comment. "Well, you've seen this happen before, if situated a bit differently," he grinned. "After all, I've heard stories of what it was like for Estel and Roydon."

And he knew what his uncle Elrohir was like, too.

By the time Emile emerged from the tavern with a bag over his shoulder, the elves had returned to their horses (or wagons) and were ready to head out again. Emile stopped short when he saw the horses, his eyes wide with admiration.

"Looks like he at least knows horses," Halmir chuckled softly.

Daeron watched the man suspiciously as he headed over to join the group. His eyes revealed little of what he was thinking. Clearly, the man wasn't a complete fool, the speed with which he had taken note of the breeding of the horses was notable. His walk was the walk of someone who was confident, though his notable lack of weapons came as a surprise.

Overall, Daeron's impression of the man was that he was someone who was intelligent but who liked to play the part of a buffoon. Well, he would play along with that, but he would be careful.

"You must be Emile," he said with a curt nod.

Emile ignored the jibe and just grinned at Daeron. "Indeed I am," he said cheerfully. "Though you've the advantage. You all have, for I know none of your names."

Andarien was awake now, though for once he wasn't crying. He reached up, his fingers closing around Lin's promise necklace.

Emile bowed deeply at each introduction. "Pleasure to meet you, pleasure to meet you," he murmured over and over again.

When Lin was finished with the introductions, Elros motioned for Emile to climb up into the wagon with Alene and River.

"Which way?" he asked.

Emile pointed up the street. "Safest place is this way," he said, pointing east. "Sun rises there first, you'll be up before the rest of the town in the morning."

At that comment, Daeron couldn't help but be impressed. Human he might be, and cocky, but he did seem to know something about keeping himself safe.

The town itself was reminiscent of a small elven town, except that it was in quite bad repair: buildings were falling apart, the people were generally dirty (though since they were working, that could be excused, except for those who were terribly dirty. In one alleyway there was a broken wagon, one wheel missing, the other cracked, and there were several young children playing on it. There were several businesses along the street as well: bakery, butcher, woodsmith, blacksmith and so on.

"Don't use any coin but bronze here, and don't let them know that you have anything else, if you do," Emile warned them, waving at a few of the people they passed who were staring at the group. "They know you've got something of value and they'll do what they can to take it from you. These people are hard pressed, and they'll do anything they can to get ahead, even if just temporarily."

Emile shook his head. "As I said, we're so far from the capital that the king doesn't pay any attention to this place. He makes sure to collect the taxes, but he sure doesn't use it to help these people. Part of the reason the people here are so suspicious and desperate."

"How could a king be so uncaring about his own people?" Earendil asked softly, his brow furrowing. "What could he be doing with those taxes?"

"It's tempting to meddle and see what we can do to help," Earendil commented with a frown.

"Don't bother," Emile replied, leaning back in the wagon and putting his feet up on a crate. "You'll never get in the castle, let alone near the king. It'll be a miracle if you even get near the castle, to be honest. Elves aren't really tolerated, not since the war."

Earendil and the others were equally confused until Shiro spoke up.

"Remember," he said in his wise way, "that history is always told from different sides. In the Second Great War of the Races, the humans were in the midst of a civil war. It was the reason no humans came to help the elves during that time. For that, the elves hold a grudge. But from the human angle, it's probable that they blame the elves for the civil war in the first place. First off, because the war was begun because people were divided as to whether or not they wanted to go and help the elves. Second, because it seems that in every conflict there is, the elves always seem to be at the heart of it. Perhaps it's not their fault, but from human eyes - who have always traditionally been their enemies - it could be seen that way. And since the war, what else has been going on? The child slavery."

At the mention of that, even Emile's face grew dark. Still, he let Shiro continue with his explanation.

"While there was every justification for the elves to invade the Southland to get their children back, it was a very small group of people who were responsible for the kidnappings in the first place. Everyone else - who might not have even known about it - would have been angry, believing that the elves were simply making a power play - even if they did leave right after they got their children back and made the people swear never to do it again."

Emile stared at Shiro, the darkness gone from his eyes, which were instead filled with wonder.

"Was that was happened?" he asked, more to himself than anyone else.