Sylvie stuck her tongue out. "It shouldn't rest on anybody," she answered. "They're going to be disappointed, if they think I'm the answer to all their problems."

She grinned. "I'll eat anything that hasn't been on a ship for weeks. They aren't going to make me give a speech or anything, are they?"

Starling's ears gave a significant twitch forward at the old man's last statement; there was something familiar and ominous about it, as if he had heard the same thing said before under different circumstances. Before he could process it, he was distracted by the idea of fresh food and nodded eagerly. "Should I, um, leave?" He said it as if he really, really didn't want to be asked to leave. "Go back to the ship?"

"They are a people in dire need of hope, but I would say all that they hope for you is that you are your mother's daughter. That will be enough." He leaned on his cane as they continued the walk, the trees slowly thinning in the distance. "Perhaps not a speech, but most certainly a song or two? They are starved for stories of the adventures you have been through to get here, in the lands of the pale ones."

As Starling begun to worry he turned and chuckled. "No, no, you stay by all means. You are a friend of our returned granddaughter, you will be treated as family for as long as you stay. Perhaps even for the wedding, no?"

Sylvie raised an eyebrow suddenly, giving Starling a worried look. "What wedding, Grandpapa?"

And suddenly Starling remembered exactly where he had heard that tone before, and he looked as if he was going to puke all over his own sandals. He swallowed it back and clamped down on Si's hand in what he hoped was reassurance, although it was more like he was trying to cut off her circulation.

"Oh, yours of course! You are of age, you have returned, the candidates will arrive shortly. But that is for tomorrow..." He halted as the trees opened up, revealing a village ahead. it lay on high ground, not far from the ocean. The wind was brisk and dispelled some of the heat from the sun. Around it, the forests had been cleared away for farmland, and in the distance one could hear the sound of people, and of ordinary lives.

"... today is a day for celebration."

And Sylvie gave Starling a mortified look. "I'm not getting married, Grandpapa," she said, although her voice came out in a squeak.

Starling swiftly cut his hand across his throat--too late to stop her from saying it aloud. He fixed her with a hard, green-eyed look as if trying to bore information into her head by force of his gaze alone. "C'mon, Si," he said, in an entirely different tone than his expression seemed, "be time for that later, what?"

"Now now, every young girl needs a man to become a woman." The old man chuckled and looked back over his shoulder at the pair. "But you will have time to pick a proper one, they will show their skills in the games so you can see which one that you favour. Be it strength or wit or wisdom, I am sure you will make the proper choice, even if it might seem odd at first, like your mothers." He chuckled, a chuckle that turned into a full bellied laugh. "Ah, she raised a few eyebrows with that one my daughter, but she was always very clear with what she wanted."

"Um..." Sylvie looked a bit embarrassed at the way her grandfather was talking about her father. "What did she want exactly?" she asked, and glanced at Starling with a pained look. "Um, how long do I have? To pick one? What if I don't like any of the ones here?"