FALLEN | rowan whitethorn x oc

CHAPTER NINE - so they are all womanizers

When Rowan had declared that they would travel, Isabella had expected everything to be almost ready, and for them to depart within the following days.

Isabella had been wrong.

She had travelled on foot before, she had even travelled with other soldiers, so she knew that packing everything to leave for a new place took time. But, in her world, they had trucks and camping gear made exactly for fast travelling. Things like that did not exist in the world of the Fae. Even with magic, five days had already passed since her –very- serious conversation with the four males and nothing had changed. They were still in the same place as before.

Isabella had started to worry that, perhaps, they had left without her. Especially after the second day, when an unknown soldier with red hair had brought her food instead of Gavriel, who had always done that task for her. But her brooding thoughts had been left to rest after Fenrys and Rowan walked into her tent the fifth day, each of them carrying a drawstring bag made of brownish leather. Both males were wearing their usual type of clothes, which Isabella had already grown used to seeing. At first, it had been a little bit strange to see everyone with knee-length boots –that, Isabella had noticed, only came in black or dark brown-, dark leather pants and linen white shirts that had no bottoms but rather ribbons in the front. Isabella could imagine that those three pieces of clothes were the soldiers' uniform since that was what everyone in camp wore, though she had seen Lorcan wearing black shirts, but he'd been the only one. Isabella often wondered if the male took the extra time to dye his shirts so that it would fit his aesthetic or if it was just a coincidence. Isabella didn't believe in coincidences.

She had thought everyone looked like people frozen in time, or extras from a movie set in the 1700's. But after seeing the four males, and anyone who she caught in her sight when she went to the forest to attend to her necessities regularly, Isabella realized that the clothes were not so bad. Odd, but not bad. And since they had found her with barely any clothes on, the clothes Gavriel or Lorcan brought to her from time to time were the only things she wore. So she looked just like everyone else in the camp, except for the fact that she had rounded ears instead of the pointy ones that the Fae had. And fangs, she didn't have fangs either. Or unnatural beauty, or strength, or could speak their tongue, but if someone saw her from very, very far away, they couldn't notice the difference.

Or, at least, that's what Isabella liked to tell herself. She already stood out enough, she needed to blend in to survive. The clothes were a good start.

In fact, that morning she had been allowed to go wash and given a new set of pants, linen shirt and boots. It was clear to the touch that everything there was made carefully and not in mass like the things she used to wear in her world. Everything was too big for her because she was still very underweight; and she had noticed, too, that the Fae were not just prettier but also taller than humans. Even the females. So her clothes weren't just too big but also too long for her. But at least they gave her cleaned clothes. There were no complaints from her.

Rowan threw one brownish bag on the table where she usually sat. During her first days there, she had used the table not just for eating but also for writing and –horribly- drawing. But ever since her interrogation, Isabella had dared to be a little bolder. She had begun to look at the books they left in the tent, and though many were in the Tongue of the Fae and, therefore, she couldn't read them; she had found some of them in the language that Remelle had allowed her to speak. They were all about geography. Isabella had really tried to learn from them as much as she could but some were so boring she'd had to leave them unfinished. And she hated to leave a book unfinished. But thanks to several others she had read, she had learned a thing or two about this world. Knowledge was always a useful tool.