Nope, it's the face of a confused-looking stranger!

Aliveth realizes with no small amount of alarm exactly what was in that bottle. It's quite obvious by the single minded eternally devoted depthless and rather obsessive adoration. For this very confused-looking stranger. She thought love potions had long gone extinct, where did he even find one?! She'd have to figure out where and prevent it from ever happening again, they were a monstrosity.

Faintly she notices that someone's shouting, and realizes abruptly that she was staring in utter bewilderment at the object of her magic-fueled affections for an extended period of time. She glances around.

Oh, she's not even out of the castle. She's just back in the courtyard. Wonderful.

"You couldn't have gotten me farther out?" she mutters out loud, dismayed. She gets an apology from her magic. It doesn't really help.

"What? Who couldn't have - what? Where am I? What language am I speaking?!"

"Those are all some very fantastic questions," says Aliveth faintly, feeling very small and very lost. She's been hit with a love potion, the idiot tried to - well actually he succeeded dosing her, but he failed to get her attached to him. Her head is currently dancing circles around some stranger she's just met. She's not even somewhere safe to freak out, she's in the middle of -

"But I'm afraid," she continues, taking a deep breath and putting her imminent meltdown on hold, "that for right now, we really need to run."

Because of course, she's not leaving him. Not - well, probably not ever, really, but especially not here. They could try to silence him for being a witness to this debacle, or, if Rithan realizes the object of his very unwanted affections attached to him, he'd probably be killed out of petty jealousy. And even if they don't jump from kidnapping and attempted sexual assault to murder, she really, really doesn't want him to have to interact with these people. From what she could tell of Rithan, he was really quite a terrible conversationalist.

They don't know where she is, again - she'll put off flying off for now to capitalize on their likely confusion. She still glows in the dark with her wings out, and they could very well have archers. The idiot might be the type to think 'if I can't have you, no one can!' and have her turned into a pincushion. Maybe her defenses could deflect the arrows if she kept them close and didn't shield her charge as well, but, well. She's not going to not protect him. That would just be insane.

"Come with me, please?" She offers him her hand. He'll be easier to shield if she keeps him close, and this is the easiest way to be sure of that, and there are definitely zero ulterior motives to this arrangement.

He clearly still has no fucking idea what's happening, but he's watching her face while she shuts down her imminent panic and thinks through the situation, and when she offers her hand he takes it.

Good, good, that makes her job easier.

She pulls him after her, trying to fill in the blanks on her mental map of the place. The front gate will be guarded, and if she wants to relinquish her attempt at stealth she has better options than rushing to where they'll be watching for her. No, if she wants to escape without lighting up the night sky, she'll need to find another exit. She glances at her surroundings to try to find one, and notices something interesting. Before, she'd been calling this place a castle, but now that she stopped to study it, it didn't have the defenses. The layout was all wrong - no arrow slits to use to fire upon the courtyard, no choke points to take advantage of. The cramped rooms and narrow hallways weren't a result of a focus on tactics, but a result of poor planning and outdated engineering. This wasn't a place built for war, it was just old and badly decorated. An estate, then.

This seems like interesting trivia, but it belies information she can use. If this were a castle, there would be one entrance and exit: the well-guarded front gate. A castle's meant to fall under siege, meant to give the enemy a single deadly option of entry and exit. But if this was an estate, then the concern wouldn't be tactical efficiency, but logistical efficiency. Funneling all required resources through a single point got very annoying, very quickly, especially if the lord of the place didn't appreciate servants transporting goods to the larder constantly underfoot. That meant that there could be a side entrance. It'd be near the kitchens, but she didn't know where those were, and wandering the interior of the estate didn't strike her as a particularly good idea.

She begins working backwards. This place is old, she'd estimate that it outdated the ones she was more familiar with by several centuries. Which meant it predated the road system in a similar manner. There'd been roads back then, certainly, but nothing as centralized and well paved and most importantly protected. So the provisions would be arriving either from a nearby town, or a nearby river. If she were the betting type, she'd say a river. This place was clearly not where the pompous idiot spent most of his time; he didn't seem the type to fail to put on a show, and the entire reason she'd mistaken the place for a castle was its utilitarian frame and lack of decoration. The only reason to do that would be to teleport her somewhere out of the way - if there was a town, it was small, but she surmised he'd try to avoid a town entirely if he could. So she'd look for a servant's entrance near where the river was, then.

During her very brief flight from the window, she hadn't seen a river, but the courtyard lacked a well, and really, she'd only seen the inside of this estate. Perhaps her hunch was wrong, it was a bit flimsy and based far too much on conjecture, but it was certainly worth a shot. She doesn't have a better idea. If there were a river, it would be downhill, and she couldn't help but notice the subtle tilt of the courtyard's earth towards the east. Could be nothing, just a very old building settling strangely. But she didn't have a better idea, and it was an improvement on a directionless sprint or losing her element of stealth.

She changes direction to pull the stranger downhill, praying that maybe this would be one of those times when ridiculous conjecture would nonetheless be correct, and - and there was the door. The grass stopped in front of it, trod into dirt from use. If her crazy desperate hunch was right, then this would lead to it. Surely the servants would prefer to scurry from place to place through the courtyard instead of through the twisting cramped hallways - but perhaps that was more desperate conjecture. Regardless, it was something to try. If it didn't look like it'd lead to an exit very quickly, she could be in a lot of trouble. Even if she was trying to avoid flying to keep them chasing their own tails for as long as possible, it was her best way to retreat. Trapping herself indoors would - well, it would end poorly.

But she feels very sure of this hunch of hers, and she didn't quite want to let it go. She holds a finger to her lips to ask silence of the poor man dropped in the middle of this debacle, and then carefully eases open the door.

He can be quiet. He can absolutely be quiet. Look how quiet he can be. He doesn't even ask what she's thinking, he just trusts her.

She'll have to thank him later for that. In a way that isn't the first thing that comes to mind of how to thank him, because - uh. Now is really not the time for anything of that nature.

It certainly looks like the kitchens. Which is something, she successfully found the less important half of her desperate slightly baseless conjecture. If it was right, it would be here. That door looked like it led to the rest of the estate, that one looked like it led to the larder, and from the sounds drifting from around that corner over there, that was where the actual cooking took place, the servant's exit would be -

She breathes a soft and triumphant, "Ha!" and pulls the man with the pretty grey eyes behind her, silently closing the door after him. As she slips down the hallway to the exit, she indulges in a smug smirk. Despite her triumph, she is not going to get cocky. She stops with an ear to the door, listening for anyone outside. It seemed quiet, but if guards were stationed outside they might not be very loud -

There's a soft gasp from behind her, and Aliveth whirls around. Oh, wonderful, someone needed to fetch something from the larder, and that someone is staring wide eyed at the two of them, too shocked to start screaming. He looks like - well, like he probably had the habit of quietly eating leftovers to have any meals in him at all. Like someone without a lot of options. Right, okay, this is a solvable problem. With only minimal reluctance, she releases the hand and starts pulling off her bracelet. It matched nicely with her earrings, but had never been a favorite of hers. She had exactly zero problem with parting with it to buy silence. She holds it up so the gold glinted invitingly in the minimal light, and smiles a winning smile, raising her eyebrows slightly.

The malnourished servant considers very briefly, then edges over to take the offered gold.

"Which way to Kivenne's border?" she asks quietly. She's certainly not in her country, otherwise this would have been much easier.

".... Follow the river south. I can tell you where you can find a boat for that necklace."

She considers briefly, then hands that over too. It earns her a brief description of where to find a boat and a confirmation that no one's watching this exit. She thanks him, and retrieves the quiet stranger's hand to definitely make sure that he's still within range of her protection, and not for ulterior motives that don't exist. Out they go.

The boat turns out to be relatively easy to find. The necklace was probably superfluous. But Aliveth doesn't mind its loss very much, jewelry is replaceable, she is not. Maybe the extra trinket kept the servant from immediately calling for the guards once she was out of eyeshot. Aliveth motions for her quiet pretty eyed stranger to get into the boat, and soon enough, they're off. She'll row, unless he obviously wants to.

...The quiet pretty-eyed stranger is content to let her row, although he watches her at it, perhaps judging whether they'd be better off with him set to the task. Apparently her rowing is adequate; he doesn't ask to take over.

Then she can row them down the river, heading south. They're going with the flow of it, luckily, so it's not particularly difficult. She notes that there is also no town here, but doesn't linger on the thought to gloat. She's much too busy watching for anyone that might spot them.

When the estate is a speck in the distance and she feels that they have well and truly slipped away, and there's nothing left to procrastinate with, she pulls in the oar to let them float and fidgets with an earring.

"So, hello," she says, an absurd trace of shy.

"Hi," he says. "Um. So. Where are we?"

"Um. North of Kivenne? I'm not quite sure which river this is, either the Milardes or the Jassim from the size of it, but." She shrugs. "I don't know enough about either to really say for sure."

"Yeah, I was afraid of that... if I tell you that right before I appeared in front of you I was passing by the Interplanar Studies building at Magisterius University in the Imperium, you're not going to have heard of those places any more than I've heard of Kivenne, are you?"

"No, I'm afraid not. Sorry."

"Right then," he says, oddly cheerful. "What's your name?"

Why does she want to melt into the boat and hide from his very pretty eyes, that is entirely an absurd thing to want to do.

"I'm -" Does she introduce herself as a princess? She clearly is one, but it doesn't seem the proper way to introduce oneself to, to. To the stranger who happened to be in the wrong place at the right time. "Aliveth Vaslinue," she finishes, a little awkwardly.

"Milan Kosorin. Who are we running from?"

She makes a face, looking in the direction of the estate with a look of contempt and disgust.

"Lord Rithan." Does she need to expand on that? She probably needs to expand on that. "I don't recommend attempting to turn around to bid him a proper goodbye."

"Wasn't planning on it. And why are we running from him?"

Aliveth doesn't have an immediate answer to that. For a few seconds she inspects the water pensively.

"He seemed to be under the impression that I would appreciate being teleported out of my home and tied to a chair," she decides upon. "I disagreed."

"Very reasonable of you."

"Quite. He was a terrible conversationalist."

"Those types so often are!"

"Yes," she agrees, but the phrase 'those types' reminds her of what sort of category of person he was, and then for some reason she feels a bit of pain in her hands from how she was clenching them. She notices as she carefully pries them open that she's also shaking.

"A-are," she begins, but her voice catches in an odd way and she has to stop and start again. "Are there any other questions I can answer for you right now?"

"If you're somehow incapacitated and I have to get us where we're going without the ability to ask you further questions as they come up, where am I trying to take us and how do you recommend I get us there?"

Aliveth has to gulp in air and go back to letting her hands clench to focus on thinking through that question and giving it a proper answer, but she does manage to actually start thinking it through. She's good at focusing on specific problems.

She pulls off the signet ring on her right hand, and offers it to him. "We are trying to get to literally anywhere in Kivenne, when we get there you can show that to anyone even vaguely official and say you have - me with you, and it'll be handled. As to recommendations, if I'm incapacitated I think following the river is our best option if we can avoid attention, and when I'm not having an impending meltdown I'm holding back by sheer force of will I can likely just fly us there. If you're not afraid of heights."

He accepts the ring. "I can handle heights. Okay. All my other questions can wait."

"Okay. Thank you. I'm - very sorry. About. All of this."

"No problem."

"I mean, it really sort of is a problem, this entire situation is an utterly ridiculous problem that's scope is rather impressive to behold. I mean to even get into this situation Rithan had to either somehow completely lose the ability to have anything even remotely resembling foresight or entirely lacked it in the first place, what exactly did he think he was going to do. Oh, wait, no, I know exactly what he was going to do, he went and managed to do it, he was going to fling a fucking love potion straight from the depths of the worst kind of history books right at my face, because that's a great basis for a relationship, right, disturbing obsessive all encompassing single minded brain warping adoration, yes, excellent idea. I won't keep any resemblance to my actual personality even while half of my head is twisting itself into knots from anxiety and lust.

"Did you know he didn't even tie me to the chair particularly well? Or leave any guards in the room with me? What, did he think I wouldn't do the obvious thing that a person with magic wings would do and fling myself out of the window, seriously, that is the absolute first thing a person with magic wings would do, I would know! I have them! And that would have just been the end of it, but noooo, he had to go and drag me back with his bullshit teleportation magic and the hole in my defenses is probably patched now but if I suddenly disappear from the boat, don't worry, I'm just probably going to show up in front of a crazy rapist that thinks princesses are definitely fantastic targets of their very unwanted affections. No horrible political ramifications of that, nope. Maybe he thought that if I sincerely loved him I'd - what, be able to convincingly pass to my family as being actually lovestruck instead of horrifically twisted into a pretzel by disturbing illegal magical drugs? He does not know my family well enough, my sister's going to tear his derelict cramped secret estate of idiotic secrecy down brick by brick if she has to, maybe even if she doesn't have to, I don't think I've ever seen her as furious as someone fucking with my head would make her." She considers. "I wonder if she'll dip into torture along with the swordfighting. I don't know if I want her to or not, I don't think I want to want that at all but I might anyway for him, bastard - actually, no, that's an insult to bastards everywhere, I apologize for wrongly bringing them into this, ignoramus, imbecile, pinhead - yes, better, those are actually accurate towards someone that thought it was a fantastic idea to screw with my head.

"Even worse, because he actually managed it!" she shrieks, heedless of how she's having her meltdown very vocally instead of silently and internally like she'd planned. "Just not the way he wanted to! I am extremely sorry for the definite actual problem that is directed very much at you! I'm trying to make it as small of a problem as possible but you were being very helpful and quiet earlier and I was having trouble not imagining flinging myself at you for some very inappropriate methods of gratitude, and oh I actually said that all out loud, didn't I."

She takes a long, shuddering breath, then says, "Pardon me, I'm going to stop talking now."

And then she buries her face in her hands and promptly begins sobbing.

"...um," says Milan.

"...do you want a hug?"

"Yes please."

So he hugs her.

She hugs him back, clinging a little and sobbing into his shoulder.

"Sorry," she whimpers. "This is the most unfair thing ever, you're already far away from home and in the middle of my problems, sorry."

"It's okay," he says. "It's - you're right that it's a problem but I can deal, I'll be fine." Hug.

"Okay. I - thank you, you're handling this very well, I'd joke about giving you a great recommendation to other people that are forcibly doused in love potion but actually that's an absolutely horrifying joke and I can't really make it without wanting to shrink to the size of a mouse and hide forever under my bed."

"I'm doing my best," he says, continuing to hug her. "Glad it's working."

"Mhm," she agrees.

Sobbing: continues.

Hugging: also continues.

Excellent, they can be like that for a while, floating down the river. Nobody's rowing anymore, but they should be mostly okay as long as they don't run into anything. The river's a calm one.

Milan is in fact keeping an eye on the river while he hugs Aliveth.

Well then he will notice that after a while they are drifting a little bit close to the western bank and that there are some tree branches low enough to cause them trouble if they were to drift too close.

By this point in time Aliveth is only sobbing occasionally, mostly she's clinging now.

Can he successfully maneuver the boat while being clung to? Let's find out.

Once she figures out what he's doing she'll reluctantly un-cling, actually, and scoot out of his way to rub at puffy red eyes.

He maneuvers them away from the west bank and its branches.

Aliveth actually isn't sure what to do now. She looks at Milan nervously.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm - feeling a bit lost," she admits, her voice coming out as a bit of a croak. She clears her throat, then presses on. "How much of my, uh. How much of what I said did you actually absorb?"

"Most of it."

She winces.

"Well. Any questions, then?"

"I'm not sure... well, here's one: do you want to stay on this boat for a while to - sort yourself out and talk things over, or would you prefer to get home as fast as possible?"

"... Sort myself out and talk things over," she decides. "My family knows I'm all right, so I don't need to rush." Her mother would be keeping tabs on her through their family's magic, and at the very least know that she's safe.

"Okay," he says. "So. ...what, if anything, is known about the ending conditions or lack thereof on love potions?"

"From what I know, the traditional cure for magical love was falling in actual love," she says morosely. "There might be other cures but I'm afraid I don't know them, the other potential cures weren't mentioned anywhere I'd read. Please understand, I hadn't even realized they still existed. And sort of doubted that they existed at all, actually, even if I have read my family's history."

"Could be better, could be worse... do you want another hug..."

She nods, and then carefully hugs him.

Hugs.

"So. Mind control is bad. I would prefer to try to find a cure for this, if you're all right with that. The exact nature of the apparent cure is... a little inconvenient... but I feel like there's probably a way to find you someone to fall in actual love with. And if not, maybe there's something else."

"Oh, not to worry, I am entirely supportive of finding a cure for - for me. I," she hesitates, shrinking into him a little. "I hesitate to trust that I am. Capable. Of being able to fall in actual love with someone. While I'm - while my head's like this."

...Hug.

"I'll help you however I can."

"Thank you. I mentioned it before, how you're handling this very well. But you are. Thank you for that."

"You're welcome. I - I couldn't do any less."

"All right. I'll - see about ways to get you home, too?"

She doesn't sound particularly thrilled the prospect of him leaving forever, but she's keeping her composure rather well.

"That's... not actually all that urgent. I'd definitely rather sort out your problem first. I do want to go home eventually, but the Interplanar Studies department is going to seriously owe me when I get back, I can afford to take my time."

"Okay," she murmurs, not quite brave enough to ask and who seriously owes you for giving you those scars? "We can try to get a message to your family, anyway?"

"Mm, yeah, I'd appreciate that."

It would probably be overstepping her bounds here to pet his hair. Even if she really, really wants to.

"What's your world like?"

"Hard to say without a point of reference... nothing I've seen here has looked like it would be enormously out of place but it definitely all looks noticeably foreign... we have gods, dragons, fae, demons...?"

"The last three are unfamiliar to me, and - define gods, please?"

"Gods. Powerful beings of a divine nature who can empower clerics to use divine magic. They get angry if you mispronounce their names."

That sounds like that description could sort of fit a particularly old family's magic, but not quite.

"What criteria are clerics chosen by?" she asks carefully, looking thoughtful.

"Varies depending on the god. There's also such a thing as a secular druid, and I have no explanation for how they manage to do things normally within the purview of divine magic without actually having a divine patron."

"... Okay, so, no. We don't have those as fits your definition, though there have been times in history where a magical line becomes so powerful it's worshiped as a god. And there are a few religions, the most prevalent example being based around an all powerful magical being that lives in the center of the world and was responsible for the sowing the first seeds of magic at the beginning of time, but - none of that's fitting correctly with what you're explaining."

"Yeah. People can become gods, sometimes, but it's really not just a matter of having magic and being worshipped, there's an actual state of godhood that's meaningfully its own thing."

Aliveth nods.

"And what happens when they get angry?"

"Someone generally dies. Or is very significantly inconvenienced, such as by being struck by lightning."

"I see," she says, in a perfectly even tone. The condemnation from the princess is understated, but not restrained.

"...wow, you really don't have gods, do you."

"Would that have gotten me in trouble?" wonders Aliveth.

"I wouldn't have risked it, but I have latent hubristic tendencies which I am trying as hard as possible to keep in check in the hope of living past thirty."

"If living past thirty was in doubt, you are welcome to stay." She considers. "And we can try to figure out a way to retrieve your family and anyone else you might want to move. If they're willing. I'd be quite the hypocrite for condemning kidnapping only to turn around and support it in a different context."

"Unfortunately, I don't think my family will budge without the entire kingdom of Laefair behind them, and moving the entire kingdom of Laefair to another plane sounds... difficult."

"Probably," agrees Aliveth serenely, sounding... not very dissuaded, actually.

"By 'difficult' I mean 'the sort of thing I have to stop myself from thinking about doing because if I let myself get in the habit of thinking about doing that sort of thing I would not make it to thirty'," he clarifies.

"I understand."

"Does your entire world just not have a problem with hubris at all?"

"We can have problems with arrogance, certainly, but that doesn't sound like quite what you meant. Define the context for what is hubristic, please?"

"...There are various powerful forces in the universe - one of them is the universe itself - that don't take kindly to upstarts. Someone who goes around acting like... it's hard to pin down the attitude precisely, but... for example, my personal major flaw is a tendency to look at situations and start figuring out how to solve them even if the power levels involved are realistically way, way out of my reach. Just thinking about it won't kill me, just talking about it probably won't either, but if I let myself start down that road I'll end up going too far and trying to fight a dragon or something and then I will die because that's what happens when ordinary people try to fight dragons."

"If the universe doesn't take kindly to certain types of attitudes, then it's subtle enough in its opinions that I have yet to notice any at all."

What kind of world is Milan from, where he would sincerely point at a desire to solve problems likely beyond his scope as his major personal character flaw?

"I hope you'll forgive me if I don't rush to test that right away. But... it's very heartening news. It does mean I definitely shouldn't go home, though. As soon as I'm sure it's safe I won't be able to stop myself from picking up bad habits and I'll have no hope at all of putting them back down again afterward."

"I do not forgive you, because there's absolutely nothing to forgive," she says, pulling from the hug enough to smile at him. "Please, take as long as you like to feel safe. Do you think your universe would object to containing hubristic letters, or that your family could avoid picking up hazardous habits if they were to visit?"

"I'm not sure... well, hubristic correspondence could get someone in trouble depending on exactly what was said, but about the other thing, I don't know. We could try asking them if they want to risk it. Very carefully. The other thing is that if we actually plan on retrieving the entire kingdom of Laefair it might be best to wait until we have a plan that we're really really sure is going to work and then just do it absolutely without warning of any kind. Minimizes the risk that someone or something will find out ahead of time and stop us. I'd want some assurance that the kingdom actually wanted to be retrieved, but it might not be possible to get that and still get away with the kingdom. And I know the king, he'd be in favour if this place really is as good as you're making it out to be, and we've always been pretty isolationist, most residents' lives wouldn't change a whole lot..."

"Agreed, I would hate to make the attempt and then fail. I have a responsibility to my country to not die, even for extremely noble causes." Even for noble causes brought to her by someone with very pretty eyes. "But - yes, that all sounds very reasonable. I didn't think it wise to introduce myself to your universe and say, 'Hello, I'd like to evacuate you.'"

"Yes, you're getting the right idea about my universe."

"Good. Please correct me if I start making incorrect assumptions, I'd hate to act on incorrect ideas about your universe. The cost of failure seems extreme."

"I will definitely do that. On the other hand, one of the major features of my universe is its disdain for being predictable."

"Charming."

"It likes its privacy."

"A desire for privacy is not in itself, something to be condemned."

What a suspiciously neutral answer. This is by design. She doesn't particularly want to disguise her opinions, but neither does she want to shout them in poor Milan's ear.

"Yeah. And - I'm not yet comfortable saying any more than that, myself."

She smiles at him like she understands his situation perfectly, like she doesn't at all want to ask anything more of him than he's comfortable with, and like he's got, if nothing else, someone in his corner, that cares for and will personally see to his well-being as best as possible.

"That's all right," she assures.

"Yeah. ... Thanks."

"You're quite welcome. Let me know if there's anything I can do?" No, bad thoughts, stop giving this innocent princess some visuals of various extremely forward things she could do for him, that's not helpful.

"Thanks, I will. And will you do the same?"

"I, um," she says eloquently, looking away to disguise how her face is coloring slightly. Her mind continues being oh so unhelpful with its visuals. "I'll try. When I know of what there is for you to do that will help without - asking too much of you."

"Yeah, that's fair."

"I try to be."

She hesitates, then adds, "Though, ah. If hugs aren't asking too much of you they are very comforting."

"I am fully comfortable with hugs."

Hug?

Hug! Over their conversation, it's grown more snuggly and affectionate than it had been before. She's growing comfortable with him. It's nice. He's nice.

"Me, too. And - thank you. For handling this very well, and for - well, frankly, treating me well?"

"I'm doing my best."

"It's nice. If you'd been awful I would have had to do something drastic, like leap out of the boat or something. It would have been annoying."

"I'm very glad you did not have to leap out of the boat."

"Me too. I have the willpower for it, but it would have probably ruined my shoes and made them uncomfortable to walk in. They're sturdy but not really meant for an intimate introduction with a river."

"Happily, here you are still in the boat!"

She snickers, a little. "Yes. Though, actually - I believe I'm sorted out enough to focus more on travel instead of maintenance." She considers. "What time was it when you were teleported here?"

"Uh...? Late afternoon?"

"So you'll probably have some trouble adjusting to the day night schedule here, but it's not as bad as it would be if you'd gotten here just after having breakfast."

Shrug. "Yeah, it shouldn't be too bad."

"Sorry, considering sleeping arrangements if the border to Kivenne's far enough away that I can't manage getting us to it tonight by flying. Ideally we'd find some kind of town soon so I can figure out just how far we need to go and work out what to do from there. But." She waves a hand expressively, notes that this was stupid because they're still hugging and that sort of makes it hard for him to see her hand gestures, and then adds, "I'm quite sure Rithan picked this location because it was secluded."

"Sounds plausible. I don't see anything town-like but I'm not totally sure I'd know what to look for."

"It'll most likely be on the river, and it'll be pretty obvious? I could fly up and see if I spot any lights or roads, but I'd rather avoid lighting up the night sky if I'm only ultimately going at the speed of boat. If I'm lucky, as far as Rithan knows, I teleported back to Kivenne and he'll give up instead of expensively searching the surrounding wilderness for me."

"Yeah. I don't have a good sense of how things work here, but your reasoning seems sound."

Aliveth smiles.

"I try. ... Oh, damn, in retrospect while we were already caught by the larder I should have stolen travelling food for us. Oh well."

"Would've been useful. Too late now. ...So, how's this flying thing work exactly?"

"Oh, uh. One of the benefits of my family's magic is a set of wings I can summon and use to fly. I can carry heavy objects or people because it'll extend some of the lifting effect to whatever I'm wearing or holding. But unfortunately they glow in the dark. I'm pretty sure though that after this debacle my magic's going to figure out a non-glow version and probably also teleportation for good measure. So that'll be nice when it's done that."

"Your magic sounds very handy!"

"It is! It hadn't had any examples of teleportation before to copy, and it wasn't worth the time investment to try to figure it out from scratch. But now it's had a few examples so it'll probably stop and figure it out when it has time and isn't disentangling a hurricane."

"Disentangling a hurricane?"

"It's hurricane season, there's one that's approaching from the coast. So my family's magic is killing it so it doesn't hurt anyone. It takes a while, hurricanes are rather big and complicated. It put down disentangling it for a little while to help me, but I'm pretty sure it's picked it back up again by now."

"...that's... impressive," he says. It's also slightly worrying on an instinctive level, but not ultimately that worrying, because he gets a definite sense that Aliveth's family's magic is astonishingly benign.

Aliveth suddenly realizes that maybe mentioning the scope of power her family's magic can operate on to the guy whose universe squishes uppity mortals was a bad call. Maybe she'd handle this with grace if she were not hopelessly in love with the guy in question, but she is. So she just - starts talking. All in a rush.

"It, um -" she adds quickly, "it actually can't just - just blast people, even if it wanted to, which I would like to stress that it very much doesn't. It's spent pretty much all of its existence figuring out how to do a lot of extremely helpful things that tend to be slow acting. It's good at quickly understanding and twisting magical effects from other magics to its own - and its charges' - benefit, but it typically doesn't have the chance or the proclivity to sit down and figure out how to do something destructive. It'd have to put down all of the helpful things it does all of the time. So if it were to branch out into destruction, which it won't, you would get a warning because all of the healing stations in the country would stop working and the weather would stop being quietly more helpful than it would be on its own and realistically the economy would probably crash so it'll be very obvious?"

"That's... good to know. Thank you."

"You're welcome. It's um, also pretty good at protecting people? Teleportation fluke aside, anyway. And I've got you under my shields right now. That's - actually why the hand holding earlier, so I could keep you in range without having to worry about keeping you in range."

"Thank you, I appreciate that."

"Well I wasn't just going to leave you there, and I wasn't going to not protect you." She pauses. "Am not just going to not protect you," she corrects. "I mean there are circumstances where I would conceivably stop covering you with my shields but presumably in those circumstances you'd be somewhere actually safe."

She's babbling. She hasn't done this in years, someone help her.

"Yes, I very much get the sense you're that sort of person, and it's something I appreciate."

"Oh, um. I mean it's not entirely just inherent responsibility, there's the - you know what, I have been babbling for far too long, I'm still adjusting to the mind control, it's thrown off a lot of my typical ability to socialize competently, I am just. We should probably actually resume rowing again, actually, that seems like a helpful thing to do that is not me desperately flailing verbally."

"Sure, that's reasonable."

"Right, okay, yes, good." Pause. She notes, logically, that she's got to stop hugging him in order to row. Logically, she understands this fact. It just isn't really logistically feasible to hug someone and also row a boat, or at least, not very well, or not without potentially endangering someone to getting beamed in the head with an oar by accident. So she must cease hugging Milan.

....

It takes her a bit to actually do something with this logical fact, but she does disentangle and then go get to rowing. Looking slightly mortified.

Milan refrains from commenting.

She is just handling this with such unmatched grace and composure, really, she's making all of the other princesses look bad. So bad. Milan is going to have such a great opinion of Kivenne from its crown princess, yes indeed.

Aliveth refrains from voicing her consternation out loud.

Down the river they float, acting out the heart wrenching and inspiring ballad known as 'Row, row, row your boat,' except without any merriment, and with at least one occupant desperately hoping that this is a dream so that she can wake up from it.

Milan is thoughtful and quiet and gives no sign whatsoever of judging her for her conduct.

Well. Good. She guesses. She'll just keep rowing and they'll see if they can find a town before she's exhausted or not.

She ends up speaking before she gets there.

"I'm um. Sorry if I'm being a bit, uh, erratic?"

"It's completely understandable, given the circumstances. Don't worry about it."

"All right. Still, for my own benefit, if not yours, I'll try to keep the babbling to a minimum."

"Also a reasonable approach."

Snort.

"I do try for those." She falls silent as she rows some more.

"... Speaking of reasonable approaches, do you perhaps also want to row?"

"Yeah, I'd be happy to."

"Excellent, I and my arms thank you." She passes him the oar, because seriously, ow. She's many things, but 'physically suited for long term physical labor' is perhaps not one of them.

So Milan rows.

"Let me know when you need a break," she says.

Except within about fifteen minutes she's graduated from attentively looking at scenery for signs of a road or town, to inattentively propping her head up with her arm, breathing evenly and probably at least 30% asleep. It's been a long day filled with kidnapping and escape attempts and emotional meltdowns and a lot of rowing, and it's getting rather late.

That's fine. Milan keeps rowing.

Eventually the princess tips ever so gently over to continue her slumber in a more stable location, i.e., curled up on the second seat of the boat.

Sure. If she seems to be unbalancing the boat he can try to sort of gently nudge her to a more optimal sleeping position, but otherwise she is free to nap in peace.

She's sort of unbalancing the boat a little, but is amenable to being nudged and doesn't stir from her new location.

Milan now has a boat, an oar, and a sleeping princess that is magically in love with him. What would he like to do?

He would like to keep heading for her kingdom.

Her kingdom is a ways away, still.

But there is eventually this dock on the river that Milan might want to head for. It has a village attached.

Hmm, to wake her up or not to wake her up...

...yeah. He nudges her again.

"Mmmnnh?" she mumbles after appropriate nudging, rubbing at her eyes before sitting up slowly. "S'rry, was a long day. My turn to row, or...?" She glances around a little blearily, and spots the village. "... Or that. Oh."

"Yeah. Figured you'd want me to wake you, do let me know if I guessed wrong."

"No, no, you did beautifully," she assures. "'m just trying to think how incredibly memorable and suspicious we'll be, showing up in the middle of the night, and what to - do with that."

"Row on past, if necessary?"

"No, I think I need to at least peddle my earrings for food and maybe a map if I don't recognize the place's name. Maybe quietly dock a ways away and head in in the morning when it's slightly less suspicious?"

"Will it make enough of a difference? What problems do you anticipate if we're that suspicious?"

"Mostly I'm worried about them getting suspicious enough to inform their ever so charming lord and bringing him down on our heads. But of course, there could also be people that might try to mug us, depending on where exactly we are, or trying to detain or arrest us, or - I'm not entirely sure. I've never exactly been in this situation before. It just seems like something that could be bad."

"That's fair. Approaching in daylight seems to lower the risk of mugging."

"That's the idea. Though really I'm more worried about people trying to detain us, someone trying to mug us could be scared away without much trouble I think."

"Yeah, I would really prefer not to have to scare away people trying to arrest us."

"I could conceivably pull the princess card and maybe get us out of being arrested, but then that opens us up to people charmingly thinking that they can ransom me or something. So. Yes, agreed."

"Okay. So, we wait and visit in the morning."

Aliveth nods. They (well, Milan) steer the boat to a reasonably well hidden spot further downstream.

"The boat might be the best place to sleep, uncomfortable though it might be," observes Aliveth. "Slightly less potential for being bitten by insects. But then, survival in the wilderness wasn't really a thing I learned from my tutors."

"I know a little about this sort of thing - I don't know how well the knowledge transfers between worlds, but assuming we're not going to be eaten by river monsters in the night, which I think you would've mentioned, sleeping in the boat sounds like a solid plan."

"No river monsters," laughs Aliveth. "All right. ... I think my magic's got enough attention to spare to keep an eye out for us, so we shouldn't need to worry about something sneaking up on us in the middle of the night."

"Useful. I don't mean to cast aspersions on your magic, but - how sure are you of that? I'm willing to keep watch if it's likely to help."

"It and I aren't offended, not to worry." She tilts her head slightly, staring off into space. Listening to the impressions it can send her.

"... It seems to have everything under control at the moment, and will continue to if everything goes well. Generally night's a better time for it to watch out for us, because it'll be less busy, even with the hurricane. But if something happens and it can't spare the attention span it'll wake me up, and we can figure it out from there."

"All right. I'm grateful to your magic for its help."

"I can't actually hear what it's saying, only sort of get empathetic impressions, but it sort of wryly thinks that helping people is its job, especially when it comes to, uh, me. Being the kingdom's heir. Besides, it likes me. ... Also I think it likes you so far, which is nice."

"Given everything I've heard about your magic, I'm genuinely honoured by its regard."

She smiles, then the smile falls to a slightly puzzled expression.

"Hold on, it's trying to communicate something complicated to me, I've got to play a bit of a guessing game to figure out what it's saying. Uh. It's feeling apologetic towards you and I'm not entirely sure why....? Hm. Something that happened earlier - oh. Uh, you remember how I mentioned that it was pretty good at twisting magical effects, earlier?"

"Yeah?"

"It didn't cause your teleportation, but it did apparently do... something... to tie me to it, so when you appeared I'd be pulled next to you? So it's taking responsibility for getting you involved in my problems, and it's apologizing. It didn't have a better way to get me out."

"Under the circumstances, that seems unambiguously preferable to not doing that. I appreciate the apology but I'm not upset on my own behalf here at all."

"I don't think it's sorry that it did it, exactly, but it's sorry for not having had a better solution available and felt that you deserved to know and have an apology."

"That's fair and I appreciate it."

Aliveth smiles again.

"Anyway. It'll look out for us while we sleep, but if you want to stay up to make sure it won't be upset or offended."

"Under the circumstances, I think I'll trust it."

"All right."

.... She notes that it is autumn, and it might get somewhat cold, and that there is a way for the two of them to mitigate that somewhat. She - does not feel brave enough to suggest that they cuddle while they sleep. She'll just. She'll just say good night and sleep, that seems like a good plan.

"I promise that when we get to my kingdom you'll get a proper bed," she says, toeing off her shoes and stopping herself from imagining that bed as hers.

"And I will appreciate that, but in the meantime I honestly don't mind the boat that much."

"I'm glad it's not too much of a bother." She scoots to attempt to find a comfortable place to sleep in the boat. .... It's kind of difficult, and very cramped, but she tries. "Well. Good night."

Milan doesn't seem too bothered about the cramped conditions; he just tucks himself into one end of the boat and closes his eyes.

Aliveth will just be over here, trying not to pine or ask for cuddles.

She falls asleep. Eventually. It's less easy, the second time around.

Milan sleeps pretty well.

Nothing disturbs them during the night, but it does get a bit chilly.

But eventually the sun pokes its head over the fog-covered landscape, and it's maybe time for the duo to wake up.

Yawn.

Milan is mildly uncomfortable, but it's honestly a bit lost in the general discomfort of existence.

Aliveth takes a bit longer to wake up, and from the pained look on her face and stiff way she drags herself up to a sitting position, her discomfort is not so lost.

"You know I'm realizing that if we had gone into town in the middle of the night we maybe could have talked someone into lending us places to sleep. Instead of a boat." She is clearly not pleased about sleeping in a boat.

"...yeah," he acknowledges. "You all right?"

"I'll live," she assures, stretching. "It was my idea, anyway, I'll own up to its side effects. Ow. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm completely fine, it takes more than sleeping in a boat to bother me."

Aliveth smiles. "Well, I'm glad." She shifts in her seat, wincing at her sore muscles. Her expression then turns wry. "But I'm a spoiled princess and boats are not up to my usual standard."

"Sleeping in boats isn't a skill most princesses need to pick up. I think that's pretty reasonable."

He climbs out onto the shore.

She laughs, a little. "Yeah. But I try to be at least a little bit self aware."

Climbing out onto the shore is a bit harder for her, on account of being a spoiled princess, but she'll manage.

Milan offers her a hand.

... She takes it a little shly, but she's clearly delighted.

"Thank you," she murmurs, when she's safely on land.

"No problem. So: village?"

"Yes, village." She hums thoughtfully, trying not to dwell on whether or not she should keep hold of his hand or not. She releases it, anyway, because she does not need distractions right now, she needs to figure out the best way to get him (and herself) breakfast without getting detained.

"Perhaps if I were my sister I could come up with some kind of cover story that would make any sense at all, but for the life of me I can't think of anything that would be remotely plausible. I suppose I could just walk in completely unashamed and offer zero explanation and just be the most inexplicable person they've ever seen. If you confuse people enough sometimes they'll just helpfully go along with whatever you're doing, because they don't know what else to do with you."

"Yes, I've found that principle useful a time or two myself."

"Well then! Shall we just be the most confusing and inexplicable people the unsuspecting village has ever seen?" she asks lightly.

"Sounds like fun!"

She smiles, then hooks her arm through his to head off to the village.

They reach the village; it's pretty early, and it's not a very large village. Someone's over there taking down laundry that they neglected to retrieve before going to bed the night before. The someone glances up from folding and promptly stares. Aliveth waves, cheerily.

Milan smiles a bright and friendly smile. He's very good at that.

The woman folding up laundry is really too surprised by them to wave, smile, or call any sort of greeting. She just stares.

"Hello!" calls Aliveth. "Do you happen to know anyone here that would be able to sell us a map?" Aliveth might not have known how to disguise her presence in the town, but she does know how to get what she wants, at least when it comes to trading earrings for food and a map. What she wants is to convert her earrings into coin, but if she were to just wander up to a merchant to peddle them, they'd almost certainly try to swindle her. Well, a good merchant will probably try to swindle her regardless, but they'll have slightly less bargaining room if she forced them to attempt to convince her to part with them.

"Uh? Um. Kaliam's got a shop and might have one there?" says the bewildered woman. "Where did you come fr-"

"Oh, excellent, thank you," says Aliveth, pretending not to hear the question. "Which way is that, and when will it be open?"

"It's, it shouldn't be long now, he likes to keep early hours. At the green building a ways down and to your, your left. Um. Were you attacked by bandits, should I call the elder-?"

"No, no, it's quite all right," assures the princess airily. "We just thought we'd take a nice walk and see your town."

"It's a lovely town," adds Milan.

The woman seems taken aback. "I- I um, well thank you."

"Thank you for your help!" adds Aliveth, smiling prettily. "Do you have many visitors to your lovely town?"

"Uh, not really?"

"Oh, pity, the scenery's so very verdant, especially with the river."

"People, don't really see much reason to come by, um. Why are you here?"

"Well to buy a map of course. Speaking of, I'm sorry, we really must be off, pleasure speaking with you!"

"Wh- but -"

And Aliveth cheerily waves and starts looking for a green building to buy a map at.

Milan cheerily follows. They are so cheery, the two of them. They are filled with cheer.

They are! It's not even entirely fake. Aliveth giggles a little, clearly having fun.

There are a few more people out and about, and they also stare.

"Excuse me, is Kaliam's shop open yet?" asks Aliveth, of one of them.

"Um. Yes?"

"Excellent, thank you very much."

And the green building is located and entered, Aliveth resisting the urge to hum a cheery tune.

Milan has a sunny smile for everyone they pass, and another one for Kaliam.

Kaliam is bewildered, but recovers reasonably quickly. "H-hello, come in, come in," he says, eyeing the mud covered hem of Aliveth's expensive dress, and the scars that crisscross Milan's face, "you look like you've been through a, a misadventure or two. Welcome to our humble village and my even more humble shop. What can I do for you?"

"Do you have a map that you'd be willing to sell us? A cheap one, preferably, we're a bit short on coin."

"Certainly, certainly, what would you like a map of, I'm afraid I don't have much of a selection, but I do have one or two around - but only the best, of course!"

"Of course," agrees Aliveth, easily.

The merchant fetches a map and unrolls it in front of the two of them. Aliveth inspects it with a thoughtful hum.

"Sorry," she says, "I'm just terrible at reading these, I can't seem to find the town's name on it."

"Oh, it's not on here, this is just a humble fishing village. This is a map for seeing countries - we're about..." he trails his finger down a squiggly line labelled the Milardes, and then points triumphantly at a completely unassuming spot on it. "Here, we're about here."

"Oh, goodness," says Aliveth, drawing a hand to her mouth. "I didn't know we'd travelled that far from Graypoint." Which is of course not the nearest labelled city on the map, but one a bit further away. Unlike the closer city, she's actually been to Graypoint. Once. For a terrible, terrible party. "Do you think we could get to Wealdmere in two days...?" Wealdmere of course being a town that is in the direction to Graypoint, and consequently nowhere near Kivenne. Because Aliveth would rather come off as a lost, vapid noble than a lost, kidnapped princess trying to get back to her country.

She's moved from holding Milan's arm to holding his hand, and gently squeezes it when she says two days. She hopes he gets the message about how long it'll take them to get to Kivenne, but if he doesn't, she'll let him know later.

"Travelling by foot? ... Maybe. If the weather's nice and you don't mind a lot of walking."

"And if we don't get lost again," 'muses' Aliveth, looking 'longingly' at the map.

"Getting lost is no fun," Milan agrees. "Well. Very little fun."

Oh, he's fleshing out her silly vapid noble story with why they are lost in the woods. Excellent. She is entirely justified in being completely in love with this man. Even if she's trying not to have visuals of trying to persuade him to actually have that brand of fun with her while lost in the wilderness.

She giggles a not entirely affected giggle. "I think we made the most of it."

"Right," says the merchant loudly. "Well, I'll part with the map for four hundred dinars -"

"Four hundred?!" cries Aliveth, at this entirely reasonable sum from a merchant selling a fragile uncommon commodity in an isolated community, acting like she has never actually had to deal with the realities of not having enough money for something in her life. Instead of being the princess that knows a startling amount about economics. "In the city I could buy a map for half that!"

"Well, this isn't the city. If you'd like to buy one there at that price you can feel free. If you can find it."

Aliveth huffs, affronted. "We are perfectly capable of finding it if we have a map. Just. How treacherous is the road?" Fidgeting is already a bad habit of hers, she finds it perfectly natural to turn this habit towards fidgeting with her earrings.

"It can sometimes be rather hard to place," says Kaliam, noticing the earrings and giving them an assessing look. For his part, he sees a chance to play on a vapid noble's fears and earn himself a prize. "There are a few hunting trails that cross through it, I've known some people to get them mixed up and find themselves lost in the wilderness for a while."

"Oh dear," mutters Aliveth. She glances at Milan, acting nervous, "Do you think we could afford it if we sold some of our supplies and still have enough to get there?"

"We could probably manage it... then again, look what happened the last time I said that," he says ruefully.

"It's not your fault," assures Aliveth, because that's what a lovestruck noble would say. She knows because that's what the love potion wants her to say.

"Still," she muses, fidgeting with the earrings a second time. "I'd like to have a better safety net up if we get lost again..."

"Might I offer an alternative?"

"Yes?"

"You could, perhaps, use something else valuable as collateral."

Aliveth stares at him, blankly, then pretends to have understanding dawn on her. She pulls her hand away from her ear, as if insulted. "These were a gift from my mother!" They even were, but Aliveth doesn't think for a second that either of her mothers would hesitate to put her life over petty jewelry. Still, it'll get her a better deal if she has to be talked into trading them away. Getting what the earrings are actually worth isn't happening, not in a village so small it isn't even on the map, but she can squeeze some fraction of their actual value from this merchant.

"I'm not speaking of selling them," says the merchant, backtracking quickly. "You can come back with the money to pay for the map and whatever supplies you might like later, and then I'll return them."

She makes a show of thinking about it and hesitating, looking at Milan again. Partly because it's in character, partly because really, he's such a fantastic partner for this and she adores him.

Milan looks hesitant, on the verge of mildly suspicious.

"I don't know... will we even be able to find this place again? It's not on the map!"

Aliveth is completely aware that she's under the effects of a love potion. She knows that at a minimum, at least 60% of what she's feeling is fake, and should be ignored or set aside in favor of the current set of tasks. For example: she should not do anything about how she now desperately wants to marry this brilliant, brilliant man. Nothing at all. Even if they'd be fantastic together. And they would be, because look at him, he's just so amazing.

"I travel to Wealdmere during the spring. If you can't find the village you could find me there."

"That's not very specific. And you could have sold them by time we find you!"

"Would you rather get lost in the woods without a map as your supplies dwindle away, or lose a pair of earrings?"

Aliveth makes a face, but pretends to crack. She demands an outrageous sum to go along with the map, to be paid back for the earrings, then the merchant offers a counter solution, and the haggling begins.

Milan and Aliveth walk out of the shop with enough food supplies for a week, two canteens, two bedrolls, a map, two hundred dinars, and a pack to carry them all in. She waves cheerily at confused villagers, arm in arm with Milan.

Milan beams at everyone as they leave the village.

She loves him so very much, but she's not going to do a thing about it until they're out of the village and by their hidden boat.

"That was," she says, smiling, "amazing."

"It was fun! I, um, apologize about the - implications I threw at him, but I thought it would help sell the story."

"Oh, no, don't apologize, it fleshed out the story beautifully." She sounds a little bit like she's in awe. And a lot more like she's in love with him.

"I didn't realize I'd be quite that good at it!"

"It was a joy to watch, I'm only disappointed I had to participate, too." Or not allowed to participate by making the romantic angle a bit more based in reality, but she's not saying that.

"You were pretty brilliant yourself. Couldn't have pulled it off without you."

"Well, thank you. Happy to be of service," says Aliveth self-consciously, busying herself with sorting through their shiny new supplies to get them something resembling breakfast. This is partially so she can get the both of them breakfast, and partially so she doesn't accidentally do something like ask him to marry her or ask him if he could perhaps fall in love with her on his own.

"We did make a good team," she admits as she hands him the bit of bread that gets to serve as part of his breakfast.

"We really did!"

Mm, breakfast.

Aliveth is going to focus on eating, because eating is not asking him to marry her. Which is good, because she resolutely is not going to ask him to marry her. Nope. She's not doing it. She refuses. Even if she really really wants to.

"So flying home will take about two days," she says, because this seems like an approved line of conversation,' "but we'll have to leave the boat. I uh, can carry you, but I can't majestically fly across the sky carrying a boat."

"...well that's a hilarious mental image," he says. "I'm not particularly sentimentally attached to the boat. Would there be anything gained from continuing down the river in it for a while before we resort to flying, though? Since once we leave the boat I imagine it'll be hard to come by a second one, so any more boating we do is going to have to be in the immediate future."

"Exactly, but - I'm not sure. I think the biggest benefits a boat could get us at this point is stealthy movement, especially at night, and letting us move when I'm not awake. But I can't think of why we would want to boat in the immediate future anymore."

"We'd be trading off stealth against speed, I guess - how long would it take to get home if we stayed with the boat as long as possible?"

She hums thoughtfully, heart catching at his casual use of 'home' to describe her country. Was that by design, or inattention? She's not going to ask. It can be his home if he wants it to be, and if he does, she'll giggle deliriously from delight later, when she's not busy getting them home.

"If we took shifts and one of us rowed while the other was sleeping, and only took short breaks ashore for the call of nature, and not counting any problems that might delay us," She looks at the map, calculating speed and the number of hours they can reasonably spend rowing a boat. "Two weeks. If I'm very, very generous and nothing goes wrong and we don't mind getting very, very sick of being in a boat. Where we stay in it, one of us rowing, for at least twenty hours a day." Which would still manage to burn through their food supplies entirely; they'd have to use the money to get more of them, involving more interaction with people.

"Then yeah, it's not worth keeping the boat. And you fly pretty fast, wow."

She smiles, slightly bashful at the sort-of-compliment. "Yeah. It's meant for travel, so it's built to let me fly pretty fast. I can actually push it faster if we're in more of a rush, but my shields can't keep us comfortable while I do that."

"And it probably isn't urgent enough to warrant that. Okay. We have a plan."

"We do. Though we should maybe not immediately rush to flying right now, I'd feel better if we took a bit of time to get you comfortable with steering the safety glide before actually flying at high-altitudes."

"Sure. Safety glide?"

"The built in magical effect that'll prevent horrible accidents associated with being very high up if I were to lose consciousness while flying, or if, um. I were to lose my hold on you. It'll extend a gliding effect to you that'll stay until you're done gently gliding towards the ground. You can steer which way it goes. It's sort of like flight, but not quite. I can demonstrate with the pack, it extends to objects too, if you'd like to see it. I won't go over the treeline, so it should be reasonably hidden."

"Okay, sure."

Aliveth smiles at him, then picks up the pack, walks a ways away so she'll be flying towards him, and summons her wings.

Perhaps he'd thought of a pair of great feathery wings when she first mentioned them. They're not. Instead of a single pair of wings, she has nine pairs of slender and feather-like tendrils that billow out from her back. They glow a golden-white at their base near her back, like they're made from captured sunlight. From there, they fade to translucent light and then to nothing. She flutters them slightly, not even really flapping them, and she gracefully rises a few feet into the air, pack and all. Then, with another flutter of the wings, she floats forward, and casually drops the pack.

Before it has a chance to really fall, it's caught from underneath by a gently twinkling aura of netted golden light. Instead of dropping like a stone it continues on in its given trajectory forward towards Milan, descending slowly and safely. It's deposited gently about two feet in front of him, not even jostled from the landing.

"A lot of people actually find gliding very fun," says Aliveth conversationally.

"...I'll bet they do!"

"Do you want to take a bit of time to practice with it?" she asks innocently.

"That sounds both practical and delightful."

Aliveth giggles a little, floating over to land next to him. Her wings drift only minutely from the movement of the air, but it's clear they're not unaffected by it.

"That's the idea! I do need to pick you up, though."

"Sure, go ahead."

Aliveth ignores the part in the back of her mind making an undignified squeeing noise at getting to pick up Milan in favor of actually managing it with some degree of competence. She's significantly taller than him, so it's pretty easy to just gently scoop him up into a comfortable bridal carry and lift the both of them up a few feet in the air.

"Comfortable? Secure?" She smiles, teasingly. "Ready for me to drop you?"

"Yes, yes, and yes!"

It's terribly tempting to kiss him before she drops him, because he's just being aggressively adorable at this point. Along with the urge to not ever drop him, because, well. She loves him. She doesn't want him to ever be in any kind of danger. But he's not, she assures herself, a fall from this distance probably wouldn't hurt him even if it wasn't for her magic's absurdly thorough safety precautions. And her magic has some very absurdly thorough safety precautions. Safety precautions that are fun to use.

She does indulge in snuggling him closer, because he's amazing and she loves him and she has some trouble not acting upon that, and then murmurs, "All right. Here you go."

And Aliveth 'drops' him, moving to catch him if something goes wrong, which it won't, but just in case.

Whee!

Gliding turns out to be both intuitive and fun.

It opens as a simple ability to steer, by either turning himself in that direction or - quite subtly - intending to go in that direction. This follows through on other practice runs (or, well, drops) and can let him speed up, slow down, or cease the glide entirely, though it renews itself the minute he wants it to. On its own, it'll slow him down before he runs into anything; this function can be avoided by avoiding the objects themselves, or intending to ignore the safety measures in place.

Aliveth was correct, it is very much like flying, except it'll only go down, and while he can slow down how quickly he descends, he can't actually hover indefinitely. For a little while after he lands the net of sunlit sparkles linger, (Aliveth explains that this is in case he landed on top of a building or something and would like to get down, instead of being stranded) but eventually they dissipate and the gliding effect is gone. He can persuade it to stay for longer, if he focuses on it and intends to eventually use it, but this also doesn't last indefinitely.

While Milan experiments, the lovestruck princess... hovers. Literally and figuratively. She's delighted with how much fun he's having, but very concerned about his safety.

She needn't worry. He picks up on the underlying principles very fast, and soon he is happily weaving between trees.

While she really, really wants to make a game of this, to sincerely just enjoy his company with something so clearly fun - they're still far from (her) home. Later, they can have as long as they like to play, but if they waste too much time playing now, then they risk being delayed or entirely detained.

"Feel comfortable enough with it to travel?" she asks from above him, amused, as he weaves. Aliveth is an intelligent princess with summonable wings; she's of course wearing dark leggings under her dress. There is absolutely nothing wrong with floating above him.

"Yeah."

They take a few minutes to see to bodily functions, fill their canteens ("We don't need to boil it, my magic will just clear it up for us, it's good at water purification.") and finish eating, and then once they're done packing up, Aliveth picks Milan up and ascends.

A bird would need to fly at a certain angle upwards in order to ascend. Aliveth can just go straight up. She is, as advertised, very fast, but she works her way up to that speed gradually. It feels like there should be a rush of biting wind, but there - isn't. There's a gentle breeze, mild in temperature, from the movement. That's it.

"We're going to go up high enough that we'll be easily mistaken for birds," she explains, her voice as clear as if they were on the ground, "And we can actually take some breaks in the air, if we lean on the safety glide and you stay near me so I can shield you. Certainly you don't need to stay in my arms the entire time if you don't want to."

"I'm fine with being carried the whole way, honestly."

"Well, all right," she says, trying to resist the urge to nuzzle. He's just so nice. "But my arms will get tired at some point, so I am probably going to need one. Even if I'm not carrying all of your weight, I'm carrying some."

"Yeah, makes sense."

"Mhmm." Snuggle? He won't mind her snuggling him, right? Surely not.

She's just about high enough for her tastes; time to start following the river. It certainly feels like they're moving, but from way up here, it feels deceptively slow. But the view is spectacular.

"Airships have nothing on this."

Aliveth laughs.

"Well, thank you. What are those? I presume ships that fly...?"

"Yeah. I've been on a few. They're nice, but they're... well, ship-sized. Having nothing but an extremely well-designed safety spell between me and the ground is much more fun."

"I spent a large amount of my childhood on the royal palace's roof," agrees Aliveth lightly. "Or above it. Though technically, you also have me between you and the ground, too. If that doesn't ruin your fun."

"You are not blocking my view."

"I suppose I'm not," she agrees, resisting the urge to giggle. Logically, she knows that this probably wasn't flirting, because it was way too opaque to be anything of the sort. Emotionally... well. She'd like it very much if he started flirting with her, and wanting something very badly can make someone think something's true.

"We can go flying later, if you'd like to."

"Sounds like fun. Although after two solid days of it I may want to put off further expeditions for a while."

She snorts. "Yeah, probably. It's kind of a pity that your first introduction to flight is a slightly desperate escape. It's very fun."

"It's a very fun slightly desperate escape, so far!"

"Good. It's - you've - I've enjoyed it too, really. When it would have been very easy not to?"

"Yeah."

Snuggle.

"You've made this all very reasonable," she admits. "Or. Not reasonable, it's an unreasonable situation that neither of us should have been put in, but it's. Like whatever my responses might be, those are all reasonable. It's very comforting."

"Well, you keep having reasonable responses!"

"And yet somehow I get the impression that if I collapsed into an unresponsive heap, you'd start trying to figure out a way to smuggle me back to Kivenne."

"Of course."

"Thank you. For that, and for everything else."

"Least I could do, really."

"You say that, but it would have been completely within your rights for you to want to be dropped off at the closest city and never have to see me again."

"...I would've had the right, but I couldn't actually have done it. I'm - not built that way."

Snuggle. Internally affirmation of how she really would like to marry him.

"I know. I - maybe this is a sign that I should have gotten out more, but I can't think of anyone that I would have preferred to..." She waves a hand, awkwardly, jostling him a little. "You're so reasonably and thoughtful, and - I want to go on but that might be a bit too awkward."

"...Thank you," he says. "I... appreciate the sentiment."

"Not that I'd, have intentionally wished you into this position, but - oh, look at me, lapsing into babbling again, sorry."

"Babble as much or as little as you like."

"I think if I let loose the babbling floodgates I'd say a number of mortifying things," snorts Aliveth. "So I'll pass. But thank you."

He shrugs. "I - very much want to do a good job at 'target of misaimed love potion'."

"You're doing a fantastic job at 'target of misaimed love potion,'" she assures, with - uh, more adoration than she'd planned. Absurdly, she also wants to tell him that she loves him. But that's obvious, and might be pushing things a bit too far.

"Glad to hear it."

She readjusts him in her arms so she can snuggle him slightly better. Snuggle.

Flying! So much flying!

"There's not much to do up here except look at pretty scenery and talk," she observes. "Anything you'd like to know about Kivenne before we get there?"

"Yes, definitely. But since what I really want to know is 'what are the things about this world that you're not going to think to tell me and I'm not going to think to ask about and then we're both going to end up surprised by', I may have to settle instead for 'what has your life been like there, in general, whatever of it you'd like to share'."

She laughs, a little, at this description. "Well, for one, I was very nearly not born a princess. Uh - I haven't explained how Kivenne's succession works, have I?"

"No, I don't believe you have. Go on."

"Well, our magic's attached to our whole family, to varying degrees, but it sort of has to pick one person from it to - represent it? Cooperate with it? Anyway. So because our magic does so much for taking care of the country itself, that person is the monarch. So they can be told of problems quickly and help deal with them, and how to implement new solutions, and figure out what else can be done - so on. The magic's got good judgement for that sort of thing too, it doesn't want to pick someone because they're first born or male or pretty, it wants to have someone that'll help it take good care of the country, and by now it's got a pretty good perspective on who'd make a good monarch."

"Huh. Have I mentioned recently that I'm really impressed with your magic? Because I'm really impressed with your magic."

"I'm glad! It's - well, I like it, but I'm crown princess of the country it's looking after. Of course I'd like it. But it's nice to know it's not unfounded and based on biases, you know?"

"It has consistently impressed me with its helpfulness and good sense!"

"It tries very hard to be sensibly helpful! I get the impression that it would really just like to cheerfully take care of everyone in the world forever? But that's slightly off topic, I was supposed to be talking about my history."

"Yes, go on."

"So my mother wasn't the child of the preceding monarch - she was a niece. When my magic picks a new person to work with, the closer related the person it's picking is from the person it had been collaborating with, the better? It's a transfer of very literal power, and the further the distance the magic has to transfer it, the more that's lost. It can be regained, it's not lost forever, but it's a bit of a setback. But king's children were some combination of not willing and not able to run a country, so when the king wanted really badly to retire, the magic decided to look a bit further for someone to replace him, and with a bit of help and the king's agreement, picked my mother while she was pregnant with me. If it had taken longer, I wouldn't have been born a princess. My sister wasn't."

"Interesting!"

"Mhm. Uh - oh, right, obvious possibly weird thing that isn't weird in my country but is seen as strange by others. I have two moms. Our family's magic helps people with having kids if they want them."

"...Useful!"

"Yeah, especially when blood heirs are sort of required by the magic. Once it figured out how to do it, though, it went, 'Well this doesn't take very much of my time or attention and I went and figured out how, does anyone that isn't a part of the royal family want this?' and, turns out, yep."

"I reiterate that I'm very impressed."

Giggle. "I did say it would cheerily take care of everyone in the world forever if it could."

"I wish it the best of luck in that enterprise."

Snuggle. "Thanks. Okay, so. I'm not sure what there is to say about my childhood. I got to pick my own classes and tutors from when I was about ten, and had a say in both before then? My sister's my best friend and was my typical childhood-adventures companion."

"Aww. I don't have any siblings," he says. "My childhood adventures generally involved whoever I could talk into indulging my nonsense that time."

"I am imagining a tiny Milan, earnestly inviting various grownups to join during the middle of childhood adventures," admits Aliveth, smiling.

"'Earnestly' sounds a little too... sedate for tiny Milan. Tiny Milan was kind of hyperactive."

"Oh, please forgive me for my grave mischaracterization. Tiny Milan, excitedly cajoling innocent grownups to follow him along on his fast-paced adventures."

"Yes, that's much closer."

He's just so charming and easy to love, she barely even minds the bizarre restructuring her head's undergone. She doesn't mind being in love with him, but she minds how it's making her be in love with him. What an odd situation.

"What were some of your adventures?"

"Too many to list - frequently also too embarrassing - my parents were at least able to discourage me from the really dangerous stuff, but I ran around in caves looking for treasure, I staged elaborate wars between armies of toys..."

"How elaborate are we talking, here?"

"Extremely. Diplomatic talks, breakdown of negotiations, declaration of war, troop movements, logistics and supply, strategy and tactics... I was a very imaginative child."

"That," she declares, "is incredibly adorable."

Giggle. "Thank you!"

Snuggle.

"I tended to tag along after my sister. She's very good at inviting people along for imaginary adventures." She smiles. "I did have the habit of spending far too much time on the ceiling, though."

"Was it lonely up there?"

"No, if I was feeling lonely I would find an adult I liked that wasn't busy, and promptly float down in front of them, upside down, and very solemnly ask them if they could spare some time to play with me."

"...That's adorable."

"I know."

"Why upside-down?"

"Because that way I could dramatically lower myself into their vision and be face to face with them. And it amused me."

"Those are good reasons!"

"Yeah. Plus everyone thought it was adorable, and I'm not above playing to that a bit."

"Yeah, Tiny Milan knew that game too."

"If you were cute enough, they would be more willing to play with you!"

"Exactly!"

"My sister actually got into the habit of cheerfully exploiting my cuteness? 'You don't want to make Aliveth sad do you?' And then I break out the sad eyes."

"That's exactly the sort of thing I would've done if I'd had an adorable younger sibling."

"It was a strategically sound use of available resources!"

"Exactly!"

"I did get out of the habit of floating upside down as I got older, though. It's difficult to be dignified while upside down, especially in a dress."

"Just a bit, yes."

Snuggle.

"So, yes. That about summarizes my childhood, I think. I believe I'll make you ask my parents for specific stories."

"Happily. Well - if you prefer that I not get my hands on your adorable childhood anecdotes, I won't."

"Hmmmmm," she says, mock-consideringly. "I don't know, what would you even do with my adorable childhood anecdotes...?"

"Be tremendously charmed by them."

"Well in that case, if you promise to only be tremendously charmed by them... You may acquire adorable childhood anecdotes by whatever means you see fit."

He giggles. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Good, good." He gets to get snuggled again, on account of being fantastic and amazing.

"So in the scope of how picking the next monarch works, being crown princess basically means that everyone's agreed that I get the job next."

"Logical."

"We do try to be that."

And that's about all she feels brave enough to say on that subject. She's not bringing up how due to being the next monarch she should probably have kids at some point. Nope.

"From everything I've seen, you seem like you'll make a pretty good queen."

Her heart does a - something. It does a definite something, that inspires her to smile like a dork and become very interested in the scenery below.

"Thank you. That - that means a lot."

"And I like to think I can guess that kind of thing pretty well."

She's pretty sure by now that he can he's very reasonable and conducts himself so well and she's so atrociously in love with him augh.

"I think I'm inclined to agree with your judgment," she agrees, a little shyly. "Not that I'll leave it there and go, 'Milan says I'll be a pretty good queen! Pack it up everyone, no need to advise or teach me, I can handle this!' or anything."

"Well, of course not. That wouldn't be the sort of thing a good queen would do."

"Exactly!"

Giggle.

Giggle-snuggle, and some flying.

"So I have a potentially awkward question that you don't have to answer if you don't want to," says Aliveth, after a while. "If you're, uh, willing?"

"Sure, ask away."

"I've noticed that you have a number of scars. Where did you acquire them?"

"That's... something of a long story. The very very short version is 'I happen to scar easily'. I can tell you the rest if you like."

"Sure, if you don't mind talking about it." She glances down at the ground below wryly. "We do have quite a lot of time."

"So - do I remember right that this world doesn't have fairies?"

"Yes."

"Fairies are a type of powerful magical being. They have really strong opinions about etiquette, and they can curse and bless people with powerful magical effects that are hard to get rid of to the point where it's dangerous to even try. When my father was a teenager, he encountered a fairy, lost his temper, and ended up cursed. His pain never fades: if he gets a papercut, he'll be feeling that papercut for the rest of his life. And if he's injured badly enough to scar, the scar will never go away."

Pause.

"He didn't have any idea the curse was hereditary until I was born with miniature copies of all his scars."

"Oh," says Aliveth softly, snuggling him closer. Snuggle, snuggle.

"My mother decided that was unfair, and she went around being very polite to fairies until she found one that took enough of a liking to her to offer her a blessing. She explained my situation. The fairy couldn't undo the other fairy's curse, but blessed me so that although my pain never fades, I always have enough - attention left over to cope with it."