Page 101 of Dark Rover's Luck

Din couldn't argue with that logic. He was contemplating major life changes based on a relationship that was barely a week old. Yet it didn't feel new—it felt like the continuation of something that had started half a century ago, been interrupted, but never truly ended.

"It would be foolish of me to burn bridges," he said. "That's why I was thinking about finishing the academic year remotely and waiting with the request for a sabbatical. But I can't wait too long."

A burst of laughter drew Din's attention back to the bar, where Fenella was now entertaining a group of patrons with another hilarious 'psychic reading' of a pencil.

"She's brilliant," Jasmine said, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "She's transformed her inconsistent psychometric ability into entertainment, turning a potential liability into an asset."

"She's always been quick on her feet," Din said, pride swelling in his chest.

He watched as Fenella moved on to her next victim, a guy who handed over a ring with dramatic reluctance. She held it up to the light, narrowed her eyes, and gasped theatrically.

"This ring has witnessed a secret talent," she announced to the delighted crowd. "Our brave Guardian here has a hidden passion for..." She paused for effect, "competitive ballroom dancing! In cowboy boots!"

The Guardian's face contorted with a mix of horror and amusement. "That's absurd!"

"The ring never lies," Fenella insisted, her expression perfectly serious despite the mischief dancing in her eyes. "I'm quite impressed with your tango, though your foxtrot needs work."

The Guardian's friends howled with laughter, clapping him on the back as he shook his head in good-natured denial.

"She's found her perfect audience." Max chuckled. "Immortals who've lived long enough to appreciate a good tall tale."

Din nodded, his eyes never leaving Fenella as she continued her performance. This was the woman he remembered—the bright spark of life that had drawn him to her all those years ago, the wit and warmth that had haunted his dreams ever since.

And in that moment, watching her shine amidst the laughter and camaraderie of the village pub, Din realized he was falling in love with her all over again, not with the memory or the fantasy he'd carried for fifty years, but with the actual woman before him—complex, wounded, resilient, and utterly captivating.

The Fenella of his memories had been a sketch, a partial impression based on limited interaction. The real Fenella was a masterpiece—layered, textured, more vivid and more complicated than he could have imagined.

He still had so much to learn about her, though.

She kept so much bottled up that she was not ready to share with him yet. The decades she'd spent wandering, the traumas she'd endured, the strengths she'd developed along the way—these were all parts of her story he had yet to discover. But he knew with absolute certainty that he wanted that chance, wanted to uncover every facet of who she had become.

42

FENELLA

"Last call!" Fenella shouted over the noise of the crowd, her voice hoarse from hours of conversation and laughter.

The announcement was met with a chorus of groans and protests.

Despite the late hour, the Hobbit remained packed, the atmosphere electric with conversation and periodic bursts of song.

"Come on," a guy called from the corner. "One more round!"

"You've had enough, Niko." Fenella laughed.

He'd been one of the most enthusiastic participants in the impromptu singing contest that had broken out an hour earlier. Max had won it hands down.

"You heard the lady," Atzil announced. "Time to go home. We're closed, but the good news is that we are open tomorrow, and you are all invited to return."

The complaints grew louder, but they were good-natured.

People were just reluctant to end the fun and accept closing time, which Fenella regarded as a great success. A bar emptying on its own was a sign that the atmosphere needed a boost.

"Will Fenella be here tomorrow?" someone shouted from the back.

"You can count on it," she said. "It was a pleasure serving you all tonight, and, hopefully, I will see you all tomorrow."

That seemed to mollify some of the more reluctant patrons, who began shuffling toward the door. Others required more persuasion, with Atzil 'helping'them politely but firmly out the door.

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