Chapter Thirty-Four: Homecoming

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The journey to Caer Dallben was so much more pleasant than the journey to Caer Dathyl had been, Eilonwy was tempted to pinch herself every so often to make sure it wasn't just a lovely summer dream. The only thing that stopped her was an unwillingness to wake up.

She had felt no regret at leaving Caer Dathyl. Over their remaining days, the novelty of its grandeur had faded quickly under her confinement, and though its people were pleasant and well-meaning, she couldn't help her mind's habit of slipping back to the stone walls and dark passages of Spiral Castle when she was alone. Several nights she had woken up in cold sweat, overhung with a horrible sense of entrapment, and had to get out of bed and throw open her casement, lean out into the fresh, green-scented air and remind herself that she wasn't in her old chamber next to Achren's. The prospect of a journey through the countryside, under the sun and stars, ending with a sojourn at the peaceful farm about which she'd heard so much, held nothing but delight and anticipation.

Gwydion himself escorted them, along with a handful of his men, and in such grand and capable company no one had any fear of attack, even had there been any faction of the retreating southern armies with such intent. They all rode horseback, even Hen Wen, borne upon a litter like some porcine goddess and looking extremely pleased with herself. Evenings were spent in story and song around the campfires before retiring to bedrolls that seemed near luxurious comfort after weeks of sleeping on the bare ground. Eilonwy lay each night, breathing the sweet air, counting the stars until her eyes closed of their own accord. Somehow it seemed a shame that you could miss such happy hours by sleeping through them.

Fflewddur, having appointed himself official entertainment on the road, waxed eloquent and inspired, unrepentantly snapping harp strings with abandon in his stated intention to break Doli's stoic gruffness and make him laugh before the trip was over. The dwarf had surprised them all with his request to accompany them, and his twinkling-eyed, acerbic commentary on Fflewddur's extravagances only drove the bard to more absurd lengths. The two of them often rode ahead together on the trail, trading barbs of wit, to the amusement of all who rode behind.

Taran, relieved of the burden of leadership, seemed a different person altogether. He was manifestly jubilant to be going home; his smile was frequent; he talked freely and openly and more than Eilonwy had ever heard him to do. He was a far more amiable conversationalist and companion than he had been previously, and wherever he went, Gurgi was close behind – so there was always someone to talk to.

To be sure, her happiness was not without its small pinpricks of pain. From certain remarks he made, Eilonwy gathered that Taran thought she was only coming to see Caer Dallben for a quick visit; what he thought she planned to do after that wasn't clear, though when any conversation trended in that direction he stammered and blushed and changed the subject. She chafed at this, silently and confusedly. His unrestrained eagerness to be home had, by all appearances, eclipsed the shy, awkward eagerness with which he had initially invited her, and though she told herself it didn't matter, she found the memory of his flushed face and questioning eyes popping into her mind far too often to believe in her own indifference. It grew even less easy as the journey wore on. Although at its beginning, Taran had ridden as close to Gwydion as he could get, she found him gravitating more and more to riding by her side with each successive day. She ignored her pleasure at the latter as steadfastly as she would have denied her jealousy at the former. Let him ride by whomever he wanted! She didn't care – though it was nice to have company closer to her age, of course.

She'd lost track of how many days they'd traveled; there came a morning when Taran, riding beside her in a moment of companionable silence, suddenly sat up straighter, surveying the land before them. She heard the sharp intake of his breath.

"I know that view!" His eyes were brilliant and joyful. He threw his arm out toward the gentle ripples of earth in the distance, their emerald glow framed in a dark smudge of trees. A wisp of lavender smoke rose from an as-yet-unseen chimney on the horizon. "It's Caer Dallben. We're home!"

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