They walked across the desolate park in silence, the trees above them shivering in the wind and rain, the sound entwining with the distant whoosh of the late night traffic and the splash of their four pairs of feet making their way through uncountable puddles.

It was strange how Fiona found those sounds calming as usual. She loved walking, sometimes even in the rain. But why didn't the presence of the three strange men make her feel nervous? It was as if... they belonged to her somehow, and she... was almost feeling responsible for them. They looked like three lost boys in this world of which they so obviously were not part of...

"Botheration," she muttered under her breath, trying to restrain her racing thoughts and focus on the here and now, as she thrudged on through the drizzle on Gilderoy's arm, the two of them followed closely by... Peregrine and Leodhais-- just what sort of names were they?-- until they reached the pub situated across the road from her flat.

It hit her where she had seen a version of the name Peregrine before, even as she peeked through the windows of The Hobbit. She would like to see who would dare call this dark and impressive Peregrine Pippin, though... Sighing, she glanced at all the three men in turn, wanting to tell them to try to look normal, to try to blend with the small crowd of Londoners filling the pub despite the late hour, but changed her mind. It would be pointless; they were just too different and conspicuous; they looked as if they just stepped out of the pages of The Lord of the Rings, the books Freddie obsessed about at the moment. They even had a ring, for goodness' sake!

She rolled her eyes; she was being silly. Hopefully, they'll be gone again from her life before Freddie returns, or he'll want to keep them.

"Come on," she said on another sigh, pushing the door open, happy that the tall and dark one at least took the wide-brimmed hat off before entering.

To Fiona's surprise, the people gathered in The Hobbit pub did not seem to find anything strange about her companions, no one looked at them more than once as the four of them made their way to the bar. Only Helen, the barmaid who had become her close friend soon after she had moved here, raised her eyebrows at Fiona questioningly after she scrutinised her companions with interest and appreciation, then returned her look to them, her eyebrows disappearing under her thick brown fringe as she said, "Well hello, Fiona and friends! What a surprise. I'm Helen."

She offered her hand for a handshake to Leodhais, who brought it to his lips instead, even as he replied with a bow, "I'm Leodhais the elf, my lady."

Fiona could hear the catch in her friend's breath over the chatter of the late night customers, and even though she was sure that the woman was so intrigued by the charming man whose green eyes observed her curves with an interest of a connoisseur that she paid no attention to his words, she stepped on the said connoisseur's foot in warning none the less. Introducing himself as an elf wouldn't do.

The blond jumped, dropping Helen's hand and looking at Fiona, who shook her head vigorously, hoping that he would understand, their silent exchange making his two friends chuckle.

"Helen, is it too late to ask for something to eat? I know it's almost closing time, but they are hungry..." Fiona pleaded, turning to her friend again, moving closer to the bar to make room for a noisy group of people who made their way past them towards the exit.

"Oh no, it's not a problem. Go sit down and I'll bring you the menus in a minute," she said, her eyes never leaving Leodhais who was now observing Fiona, as if to learn from her how to interact with the people here, or simply to avoid Helen's look.

Whatever the reason, his intent look made her feel uneasy. Fiona wasn't used to be stared at, she always did her best to appear plain and ordinary after Freddie's father, the only man she had ever allowed herself to fall in love with, had left her heartbroken. She wasn't going to let a man treat her like that again; she had suffered enough for love. It wasn't worth it.

What was worse, the other two observed her just as intently, she could feel their stares on her back as she walked towards the closest empty table and as much as she didn't want to admit it to herself, the tall dark and handsome Peregrine... She couldn't think about it. But he reminded her of Lagon in some way... the darkness he was shrouded in... No, she wasn't going to think about that. She had burned her wings once, and they had never grown back. She would spend this evening with these strangers and then send them back to where they had come from with kind regards to her father. They'll be gone from her life tomorrow, and she'll never see them again.

Fiona sat on a chair with a window to her right, and dropped her handbag on the chair on her left, creating distance between her and Peregrine who sat on the last free chair, while the other two sat on the bench across the table from her. She looked out of the window into the rainy night reigning outside, squinting towards the dark windows of her flat through the veil of falling water. It was late, and she was tired, and she still had to take Gollum for a walk before she finally could shower and then collapse in her bed...

She shivered, tempted to remove her damp cardigan, realising at the last moment that she was wearing her scrubs underneath, wishing that she had changed before leaving the hospital. Not that she cared what these men would think about her... But for some reason, for the first time in years, she wished she were... prettier. They were all intimidatingly good-looking.

Noticing that she was cold, Peregrine lifted her bag, moved it onto the chair he had freed along with his satchel and moved closer to her, deciding that making her feel the heat of his dragon fire lying dormant under the surface of his human form was a better way of persuading her that they were real, and she belonged to them, than hundreds of words.

He touched two of his fingers to the wick of the candle set in the middle of the table, lightening it in an instant, relishing her gasp of surprise. He ignored Gilderoy's raised eyebrows, the dwarf's shock at seeing that he really had magic reminding him that he shouldn't be using it. But there was something in this woman so tiny and so fearless, so plain and yet so intricate, that he needed her approval and admiration, things he never really cared about receiving from women, or rather, could not allow himself to strive for. Those led to deeper feelings that he couldn't afford to inspire or bestow...

However, he couldn't suppress the content smile when she leaned closer to him quite against her will, drawn in by his heat and he inhaled deeply, feeling satisfied, when he perceived that her tense posture relaxed immediately. He found it amazing that a woman looking so fragile, vulnerable, and in need of protection trusted the three of them enough to spend the evening with them despite the tiredness he could perceive emanating from her. He valued that trust; he would never betray it.

"How did you do it?" she muttered, filled with awe, her eyes boring into his.

Gilderoy beat him to the answer. "It's a kind of magic." He chuckled when Peregrine rolled his eyes at him before he turned to the woman who was approaching their table.

"Would you bring us something to drink first, please," Peregrine spoke to the barmaid even as she put the menus on the table. "We're cold," he added, his hands on the shoulders of Fiona's damp jumper suggesting she removed it, his smile widening when she didn't protest. She didn't smile back; she hadn't smiled at all yet. He wondered how she would look with a smile playing on her lips...

"Of course," the woman agreed, her eyes lingering on Leodhais, who was too busy observing Peregrine and Fiona to notice her, before she left again.

Leodhais would never have expected the dark dragon shifter to have a greater effect on a woman than he. And here was Alaric's daughter, the woman he was supposed to court and who had not even looked at him properly, revelling in the dragon's closeness as if she couldn't breathe if he left her side... It stung and hurt his pride, but... It was for the better. If Alaric's daughter fell for the dragon, her father wouldn't force her to marry him, surely? And if it wasn't he who refused her but the other way around, he might be able to marry his Annwyn without angering the man to whom he owed so much. And yet, it was hard to accept that she didn't like him half as much as she seemed to like Peregrine...

"Was it really... magic?" Fiona asked, forcing her eyes on the moving flame of the candle to avoid staring at Peregrine. His eyes were so unusually silver and deep, and she hadn't felt intrigued by a man for so long, and she had never felt this... spellbound... "Why are you... so warm?" she added on a whisper, shivering in the pleasant heat emanating from her dark companion even as Helen brought them four glasses of whiskey.

"Have you chosen?" the woman asked, looking at the menus lying in a pile on the table the way she had left them.

"We understand it's late, lady," Gilderoy said, looking between Leodhais and Peregrine, who both nodded, agreeing to what he was about to say. "Please bring us anything that won't cause you trouble to prepare now. Anything will do. And a bottle of wine, please," he added, remembering Alaric's daughter saying she needed a drink.

Helen's eyes strolled to Fiona, who shrugged and nodded her opinion that she should just do as Gilderoy had said.

"All right, I'll put something together for you," Helen said finally, peeling her eyes off Leodhais, smiling at all of them as she collected the menus before she walked away.

Fiona's eyes fell inevitably to Peregrine's as she looked away from her friend, the dark man's grey orbs were like magnets, two pools of cool, silver water threatening to drown her with their secrets... and promises... should she look into them for too long...

She dropped her eyes into her lap when she felt a blush flooding her cheeks, realising that the lenses of her glasses were still sprinkled with rain. She took them off and placed them on the table, reaching for the glass of whiskey set in front of her. Fiona had never drunk the stuff straight like this before but it felt appropriate tonight, its light and colour coming to life in the flicker of the candle feeling like magic as it entered her mouth, and spread its heat like fire within her body. It felt as strong and magical as the huge dark man sitting next to her, the small gap between their bodies filled with the heat emanating from him feeling vast, she mused, her eyes meeting his over the rim of her glass once more.

The woman had the most serious blue gaze hidden beyond those incredibly large glasses, Peregrine mused, observing her face free of the spectacles, his fingers itching to push a stray curl behind her ear even as their eyes met again. The moving light of the candle burning on the table between them twinkled like fused copper in her brown hair and he wondered for the briefest moment whether her thick, indomitable curls were coloured to look brown; he knew that some human women did that. Was she really as copper haired as her father? The handful of freckles sprinkled over her nose, and cheeks seemed to confirm his theory...

His musings were disturbed by Helen who appeared again carrying several large platters of bread, cold meat and cheese, a large basket of potato chips which she placed in front of her friend, and a bottle of red wine.

"I'm not hungry," Fiona told her, and from her annoyed tone, Peregrine guessed that this was something that had been going on between the two women regularly.

Was she self-conscious? Her friend was slimmer and taller, but from the little he could see through the large hospital outfit, Alaric's daughter had the most perfect curves... He looked away when he noticed her freckled cheeks turning yet darker shade of pink, realising that she most likely perceived his admiration as a curious scrutiny, and it made her feel uncomfortable.

He narrowed his eyes in a warning at Gilderoy, who, having observed them for a while apparently, tried hard to hide his chuckles. But the wise dwarf was right, of course. He was acting silly; he had no business to get involved with this woman beyond his duty-- bringing her home to her father. Her father, who happened to be the king and would never allow an errant dragon shifter to court his only daughter, even if he could afford to think of things like marriage. Family. Love. And yet...

"Well, I'm not letting you drink with these three unless you eat something, darling," he heard Helen say.

Peregrine smiled at the barmaid thankfully, those were just the words he would have uttered in her place.

"Your friend is right, lady," he turned back to Fiona the moment Helen left them. "I suppose you've had a long day, and we still need to talk. You'll have to eat something."

Fiona sighed, finding it impossible to disagree with him. Botheration... She really didn't need this man appearing in her life, she had been doing just fine... Until tonight, until the sight of him reminded her of all the things she had been missing. Like... flirting. And... kissing-- he had the most sensuous lips ever. And lov... No.

Shaking her head to disperse those wayward thoughts, she surrendered.

"I'll eat. You explain. And start from the beginning. Who is my father?" she demanded, taking another sip of her whiskey before she wiped the lenses of her glasses on her blue shirt and put them back on.