The royal carriage and escort had slowed down. Aspen kept the curtains over the windows so he couldn't see his all-but-stagnant surroundings, but he was sure that they were slowing. It only took a few moments for Aspen to get stir-crazy and pull on the deep blue rope in front of the coachman's window. A few seconds later, it slid open and Aspen had to squint against the bright sunlight.<br/><br/>"Yes, my lord?" Matcher greeted, in that almost unsettling polite way of his.<br/><br/>Aspen shook his head in shy dismissal. "My name is Aspen, Matcher. You've known my my whole life," he half-laughed, half-grimaced. The King was as close to his brother as Aspen had ever gotten, and those in the court had often incorrectly referred to him as a lord. He wasn't anything of the sort. He didn't even<span style="font-style: italic">like</span>most of those in the royal court, but the King was his only exception. "Why are we slowed down?"<br/><br/>The royal coachman took his eyes from the uniform road ahead of him to turn and look through the window separating them. He looked left, then right, at the windows Aspen had taken great care to cover up. He gave the elf a concerned look that reminded him so much of a father figure before turning back around and flicking the reins a bit. "I'm afraid I can't go much faster than this, Aspen. You'd know if you paid attention to your surroundings, but we're almost in the king's court."<br/><br/>"It's been that long already?" he asked though it was mostly rhetorical. He'd felt like he'd been in the carriage far more than what was needed to get to human territory. He idly pulled back one of the curtains just enough to peer out at passing buildings. The architecture was beautiful, though the same could definitely be said about his own home as well. There was just something wondrous about being in a kingdom that is not your own, and he would have marveled in that if it wasn't under such grave circumstances. After a moment he let the curtain fall back into its place covering the window, reclining in the deep cushions at his back for the duration of the ride.<br/><br/>Only a few more minutes had passed after their conversation before the carriage stopped and Matcher opened his door. Aspen all but fell out of it, and if he had forgotten himself for even a moment he might have started kissing the solid, unmoving ground. He looked around as Matcher unloaded what little belongings he had thought to bring with him. The large courtyard was dead, with the exception of two of what Aspen assumed were the King's men that had been sent to help Matcher with his belongings, and a few nobly dressed passersby, and one not-so-nobly dressed young woman who looked more soldier than noble.<br/><br/>Aspen combed his fingers through his long white-blonde hair, shaking the tangles out to make himself presentable for king and comrade. "Will you be staying with me?" he asked, and he was almost taken aback by how pathetically lonely that had sounded. His stomach sank when Matcher shook his head.<br/><br/>"I'm afraid the king needs me back at court, and it's a long journey back."<br/><br/>Aspen could have guessed as much. The thought of being alone in a foreign country put a bitter taste in his mouth, but Matcher was King Aedirion's royal coachman, and someone they had both known all their lives. It would make more sense for him to be back at court, waiting for Aspen's return. That aside, there was no place for a carriage on a mission to investigate the dragons. Reluctantly he nodded, and took his lightest bag, containing only the bow and arrows that Aedirion had given him years ago. It had rarely seen use, but he kept it around as more of a keepsake than anything.<br/><br/>"You'd best be off then," he commanded, though it was half-hearted and choked up around a knot in his throat. Matcher knew better than to take what Aspen commanded at face value, and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The coachman gave him a reassuring look that told him he'd be fine, but Aspen felt anything but. He watched almost hopelessly as the man hopped back up on his coachman's perch and directed the horses out of the courtyard. And with all manner of dignity that he could muster, Aspen turned around and began to make his way toward anyone who could point him in the right direction.