Private Tales Candle in the Window

[Garrod Arlette]

What came next was nothing the hunter had expected. Something that had been there in the back of his mind. Something, perhaps, that was traded between the entities that resided within. Resonated.

The thought sent a shiver up his spine. A thing that formed there in his thoughts as she spoke of dark magic, and mastery. Demons and sealing.

Her nimble fingers slipped from from his. Where their warm trace wonce worked the bones of his knuckles, and the pads of his palm, now was only the cold air absent of her touch. She undid a button from the neck of her dress, and he felt warmth creep up his neck, spread across his cheeks, his eyes wide as he saw her chest, betwixt breast and collar bone. Delicate, finely lined glyphs, sigils nad runes wove about the gentle slope of her frame.

Countless were the symbols. The runes. So fine he could hardly see them weave their web.

...I should have died years ago... I don't expect I shall live a normal lfiespan.

Cold and heavy words. Words that sand down into him . She reached out and took his hand into hers. His right hand. Still hidden behind glove. A thing he knew was not his, but was his all the same. She raised it to her lips, and placed gentle kiss there upon the tips of his fingers.

What words she shared next. Those words she gave. They fell warm and hot and straight down to the pit of his stomach. The the well of his core. How they had him grow hot. Though the pang of sadness was still there. The hint of guilt.

"Lechies," he said simply as his eye looked to her. Full of a realized knowing. He let his hand turn in her grasp, fingers laced as the rest of him fell for her. Toward her, slow and easy, till his lips came full against hers, and his weight pressed against her. His broad frame enveloped her. Took her in as close as he could. What room was between them gone as he angled into the tender plying of his lips with hers.

It was a kiss full of want.

For the time they had not had together. For the time they still had before them. The time they shared now.

His right hand held fast her hand, and his left held her close, fingers spread wide as they pressed against her back. His lips plied the sweet petals of her own lips. Felt the heat rise between them.

It was a long moment before the craning of his neck, and the gentle rock of his mouth saw their lips part. Their breath mixed between the others as they stole pants from one another. He moved her hand to his heart, and felt the raw tingle of air against his kiss swollen lips.

"Let's start now then," he whispered. And kissed her once more. Small and potent. Till the kiss broke again. "Cherishing each other's company," he said breathless. His hand helped hers run up his neck. His fingers guided hers to trace the silver scar that ran across his neck. A clean thing. Deceptively thin, for it had been so deep it nearly claimed his life all those years ago.

Why he felt the need to have her feel it. The scar that was the sign of his original pact. He could not say. Not in the then of it. But he brought her hand up to his lips, and he kissed her fingertips, as she had his.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

He murmured her name, and for a moment Lechies was afraid to meet his eye. So much knowing in that one word, her name. Such heavy realization, as stones laid upon the chest. Perhaps he had imagined the future they might have had together, a thousand moments and experiences woven into a tapestry colorful and long, threads beyond count interlaced like the fingers of their hands.

In her weakest moments, Lechies too, dared to dream. But she had come to terms with her circumstances years ago, and such dreams never lasted more than a fleeting moment. She was only sorry to have to bring Garrod crashing down to reality along with her.

But then Garrod closed the small distance between them, and the weight of him pressed into her so forcefully that Lechies might've tipped backwards onto the bed if not for his arm curled snug and protective across her back.

His lips fell upon hers. Heat raced up her neck and cheeks so fiercely that any words of apology she had been trying to form evaporated in its wake. Lechies clutched for him as a woman fallen overboard might grasp a piece of flotsam. And she trembled as one who, though aware that drowning was inevitable, nevertheless had no desire to meet her death so soon. Not while there was still something, someone to hold onto.

The kiss seemed to last forever, and yet when he peeled away, Lechies could not quite tamp down the petulant thought that it had not lasted long enough. Her lips ached; she licked them, if only to provide a modicum of relief. Her breaths came quiet and quick, and they quickened further as Garrod guided her hand to his chest. To feel the thunder of his heart a match for her own brought a fresh wave of heat surging across her face.

"Let's start now then..."

He hadn't needed to speak the words, for he'd already made his answer clear. There was no rejection of her shortened lifespan. No anger or sorrow, only unbridled joy for what time they could share. Garrod understood the wisdom of cherishing what could be, over mourning the loss of what never could. His thoughts were aligned with hers. Yet another reason among a growing list why she had been right to choose him. Why she felt, in the deepest recesses of her soul, that their connection could not be explained merely by any resonance between their benefactors.

"Yes, I..." she choked. "Yes, we shall. I love you, Garrod. I love you."

Her fingers traced the mark across his neck. Once a death sentence. One day the gods would ensure that sentence was carried out, as They would ensure hers. But for now, their time was their own.

He kissed her fingers, a devotion that had Lechies smiling. She curled her hand into his, twined their fingers together, and pulled his arm away. She swooped into the space left behind, mouth angled for his neck. For that damning scar. Would push a kiss into the corner of it, and then another, and another, working her way across the row of his throat-

A knock came on the door, and Lechies leaped as if struck by lightning.

"LaDy LeChIeS." Blueberry's machine-like voice sounded muffled through the closed wood. "PaRdOn tHe iNtErRuPtIoN, bUt iF yOu hAvE fInIsHeD yOuR cOnVeRsAtIoN, I wOuLd eScOrT yOu tO yOuR rOoM aS pRoMiSeD."

Lechies made a low whine, possibly the most unladylike noise she'd ever made in Garrod's presence. She could only look at him helplessly even as laughter bubbled up in her throat.

"Sorry, um... almost done," she called back. "I'll be right out."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

The words that came from her mouth, like warm honey to his ear. Drip, by syllabic drip. Words said in a way he felt he would never forget.

Love. They would. She did. He had already confessed. In another room. Without thought. Simply because he knew it was what he felt. Though the courage to reach out for it had alluded him all this time.

The twist of their fingers, the press of her against him come again. She fell into him. Her lips trailed warm and wet affection up the run of his neck. The silver of his scar. Each flutter of want against the pulse of his heart run through the veins beneath her lips had him run hotter and hotter. Had him ease back, elbow come down against the plush cushion as their weight pressed together. She was all but on top of him.

"Lechies," he said with happy groan. His handat her back traced warm lines along the grooves her spine. Up, and down to the swell of her hips, slipped across the small of her back. Inched further as he grinned and she went on with her-

Blueberry's voice came at the door. Garrod's head was too hot with want, too full of the moment and the feeling to hear the first. His hand still squeezed hers twined there with it, and his neck craned in joyful invitation for more kisses. But, the clockwork man spoke again. Clear that the time was up.

Lechies made a sound that had Garrod smile all the wider, despite the inconvenience. Her laughter, bright and warm, only fed the bright fire in his heart all the more. Stoked the well of heat that pooled down at his core, where her weight bared down against his.

"Almost done?" he questioned with a smirk. Craned his neck some, proud of the spot he could steal feel there. Leaned closer to her and stole a kiss against her shoulder, his hands still about her waist, as his left hand held hers firm. His heart beat strong against his chest, and, he felt as if he could feel hers too, quick against one another's time.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

The look she flashed him was reproachful, but Garrod came in so quick to steal what precious few more seconds he could that Lechies wasn't sure if she'd gotten the message across.

But she was no better, was she? All it took was the enveloping heat of him to drive her to temptation. To forget where they were, or at least willfully ignore it, just for one night. To call out a revised response to Blueberry, and let them know that no escort would be needed after all.

Ah, but imagine what her parents might say if they found out. Or what Detlef might say. And he would find out. Detlef did know best how to wring gossip out of a household's servants, and automatons were no exception in his eyes.

She sighed. With herculean effort, Lechies disentangled herself from Garrod, throwing him a look both affectionate and apologetic as she stepped off the bed, taking long strides to widen the gap between them. Partly to ensure he wouldn't try to convince her to return, and partly to ensure that she wouldn't be convinced.

"Let's leave it there. This night has lasted forever and I fear I may pass out from exhaustion if I don't find my bed soon." Lechies laughed, happy. At the start of the evening she never would have believed she could be this happy.

All her joy was directed towards Garrod as she backed up towards the door. "Good night. I'll see you in the morning."

A push of the handle, a final smile, and she was gone.

---​

Lechies had thought she might have trouble sleeping, so brightly did her heart sing from everything that had happened. In reality, she slept like a babe. Or like the dead. Clearly the trial of Daranthii's mirror and Damelin's attempts to kill them had put her body through its paces, because it was late morning by the time she opened her eyes.

She got dressed, tarrying only long enough to run her hand over the healing scar on her shoulder with a sigh, and emerged from her room to find Apple waiting in the hallway. The rest of the family had already eaten breakfast, and the kitchens were still early in their lunch preparations, but Apple had set aside some foods in the sunroom if it so pleased Lechies. It did, and so she sat down for a simple brunch of bread, butter, and fruit.

The room was balmy with the summer sun, even with the doors thrown open to welcome the faint breeze. Lechies found herself blinking lazily as she sipped at a glass of chilled tea. The gardens outside were noisy with birdsong, and through the woven mesh hanging across the doors, Lechies could see bees flitting between the flowers. Their pleasant scent filled the room.

"Is Garrod awake yet?"

Red fog flashed within the glass orbs of Apple's eyes as they conferred with their fellow golems. "MiStEr ArLeTtE iS sTiLl rEsTiNg," came the answer. "ShAlL I wAkE hIm?"

Lechies hummed briefly in thought before she shook her head. "No, he deserves to sleep in. But once he's up, can you invite him here?"

"GlAdLy."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

He felt the pull. Smiled all the more as she slipped from his grasp. A sweet pang that turned to helpless groan.

Once she had made away, he sat up, traced about his neck with his fingertips, felt where he had she had left the warm press of her lips but moments ago. He grinned wider and nod his agreement. "Yeah," he said with half a laugh on his breath, "Probably the wiser option," chivalrous as he could be, the man had never quite outgrown his rogue's heart.

His eye had never left her, and it gleamed in the dark as she smiled bright at him. "Til the morning," he said with the coolness of the air tingling against his skin. The door clicked, and she was gone.

Garrod sighed to himself. Still warm where they had been so close together. He laughed and worked his boots from his feet. Thought on all that had transpired that night as he pealed out of a shirt that was already too small, and caught the shimmer of his right arm, moon's light traced about it. He looked to his shoulder, where the white plate of chitin, demon's carapace, met his own flesh.

His fingers spread, and clutched. Spread and clutched. And he could feel the flex of his strength run through the arm. Just as he had felt Lechie's warmth against it.

"A resonance," he said to himself with a wistful smile. "Suppose there are many words for fate,"

---

It was the sound of birdsongs and smell of fresh morning air that had his mind first come to wake. The light, bright and warm, filtering through the air.

A knock came at the door.

"MiStEr GaRrOd," came the increasingly familiar cadence of one of the automatons. "I sEnSe ThAt YoU hAvE cOmE tO cOnScIoUsNeSs,"

Garrod tossed about in the bed and groaned as sleep's hold let go of his slumbering mind. His eye blinked open, and for an instant, he had forgotten where he had ended up.

"LaDy LeChIeS hAs InViTeD yOu To BrEaK fAsT wItH hEr In ThE sUn RoOm,"

He was already up and slipping his shirt back on. "A sun room," he said with an easy smile. "I wonder if they have a moon room too," he quipped idly,

"DiD yOu SaY sOmEtHiNg, MiStEr GaRrOd?"

Garrod smirked, and was slipping on his boots. "I would be happy to attend," he said loud and clear.

"VeRy WeLl," a mechanical sound came through the door. "I wIlL iNfOrM tHe YoUnG mIsStReSs,"

---

The door to the sunroom had come open, and Garrod entered, his accompanying automaton left to wait by the door which clicked shut not long after.

"Good morning, " he said with a measure of cheer in his voice. He came to sit down across from her, his eye taking in the light spread of food before them. His lips still wore a warm smile as he picked up a small plate for himself, and piled some fruits here, and a slice of bread there.

He was quiet, though it was a comfortable silence, punctuated by the sounds of the utensils clatter and scrape across the plate. "Sleep well?" he asked, simply, and felt a flush of warmth spread up his neck.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

The door to the sunroom came open, and in walked Garrod. Pear bowed courteously at his back before closing the door.

"Morning," Lechies echoed, voice warm with affection and lingering sleepiness.

The dawn of a new day had done little to diminish the joy she felt to behold him. There was a deep feeling of contentment, a bliss almost, to watch as Garrod prepared his brunch plate on the other side of the table. To recognize once again that he sat within the walls of her childhood home, where her parents and siblings still resided -- her family, keepers of her heart and soul -- and had been accepted by them, had spent the night as a welcomed guest, had laid eyes on the people and things she so loved about the house she'd grown up in. It was a strange marriage of the two lives she'd lived -- the sickly child and the brave adventurer. There was no one else she'd rather share this whole of herself with.

Having satisfied her hunger shortly before Garrod arrived, Lechies was more than happy to just sit and watch him as he worked on his food, smiling all the while.

Then he looked up, and asked her a question. Lechies gave a quiet laugh, embarrassed to have been caught grinning like a fool.

"Extremely well. A night of excitement and mild peril do wonders to promote a sound sleep." Her smile turned cheeky. "I'll wager you agree with me? A little clockwork bird told me you were still asleep until only a little while ago."

Lechies leaned forward and touched a finger to the glass pitcher there on the table. Ice crackled as cold webbed through the tea, frosting the pitcher's surface. Water droplets raced down the rounded belly. Lechies offered Garrod a refill before topping off her own glass.

"I hope the simple fare's alright with you. They just got started preparing lunch in the kitchens -- and for that matter, if you'd like to partake in a couple of hours, then I'd eat light."

Lechies paused, her attention traveling from Garrod's plate to his arm. Last night's events had profoundly changed them both, but Garrod especially, for the evidence remained on his very body. One arm was now white as marble, and just as cold. Yet it was no dull harmless stone that was attached to him, for she remembered how, in a burst of poisonous green flame, the limb had transformed into the shape of a sword during Garrod's time of need.

"How is your arm?" she finally asked, gesturing at it. "Are you in any discomfort? Or feel funny in any way? Detlef has business in the city today, but I can have him take another look once he's back. I know it's a little ridiculous for me to say this now that you know of my benefactor," Lechies's expression was wry, "but when I said demonic forces aren't to be taken lightly, I really did mean it."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Catching her smile only had his own grow a little wider. Felt the warmth creep further up his neck.

"Leave it to the scholar to call for bets when the game is rigged," he smirked, and gladly took the offered drink. "Remind me never to bet against you," he said with a small smirk, raised his cup with gratitude. "Thank you," he said before he took a drink. He made a noise of agreement as he gulped down some of the cooled water, in hopes of putting to rest her mild concern. "Light is good," he said once the cup broke from his lips. He let the cup down, and nod.

He didn't feel too hungry. But, well, eating with others was oft an act of importance. To share a table, and food. Be granted hospitality, alongside company.

He wore a soft smile as he reflected on the thought. On all that had transpired in a single night. A night of excitement and mild peril. A warm chuckle sounded in his throat.

Through the polished glass of silver, and in desire's dear domain. While fires green grew fast aflame, and wants were torn in twain.

How is your arm?

Garrod made a surprised sound. His eye widened some as it snapped from its day-dream, and found Lechies, gesturing toward the limb in question.

"Discomfort?" he parroted. Looked toward the limb. Felt its otherness, full in his mind as she spoke of Detlef, and her benefactor. He squeezed his hand. Heard the armored knuckles pop. Felt his hand flex, and so too the rest of it.

Only, it was like a memory. A facsimile of what once was. Never to be again.

"I," he half expected to hear the harsh hiss of Belephus, whispering between his ears. Like smoke poured over his thoughts. Cruel teeth flashing in the black of his mind.

There was nothing.

"I feel fine, tell it true," he said with a cold calm. As if someone waiting to be splashed with water to be made awake. His eye looked to Lechies again, and he could see the worry plain on her face. "I can... feel that its different, when I stop to think about it," he confessed. "Can still feel the phantom of my old flesh and bones," he smirked. "Guess I've just had something else occupying my thoughts as of late,"

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Garrod seemed to think about her question for a moment. For more than a moment. There was some flexing and pushing of his own flesh, a sentence started and stopped and started again, as if to test whether or not what he wanted to say matched up with the reality of things.

He felt fine. Lechies looked again to the cursed limb. Merely laying eyes on it pushed a vague sense of crawling unease down her spine, just as it did when it still held the shape of a milky jewel. But in the end, Garrod was the one it was attached to, and Garrod seemed confidently unbothered by this development, even after having had a night to rest and think on it. If he wasn't troubled, then Lechies would try her best not to be, either.

Besides, to hear tell of it, his thoughts had been full with something else. Lechies laughed, delight spreading warmth across her cheeks, banishing the cold wisps of worry.

"Gods be good, you are an incorrigible flirt now, you know that?" The roguish smirk did not help. "Well, you know your own body the best. I won't nag you about it as long as you're not in any pain... But you will tell me if that changes, yes?" Her mirth cut away as Lechies fixed him with a stern stare. "I've had the benefit of my seal to stabilize me over the years, but we don't know how, if at all, your pact with Belephus might change. So if you ever feel... off, or wrong, in any way, tell me. I'll do what I can to help."

Her little lecture done, the tension fled from Lechies's face, and she was again the picture of contentment as she leaned back in her seat. Ice clinked gently as she tilted her tea this way and that, purely for the pleasure of listening to the sound.

"On a somewhat related topic, I have a favor to ask of you." Here Lechies paused to glance beyond the windows and mesh-covered doors, old paranoia leading her to check that no unwanted ears were somehow listening from the garden, before she continued. "It's about the mage who sealed my demon. I need to speak with him, and I'd like it if you would join me. I know we've hardly had a moment to ourselves," she said quickly, "and if you wanted to rest for longer, you're more than welcome to stay at the estate, but I'd like to set out within the next day or two.

"Will you come? Think of it as another adventure. Or," Lechies smiled, a smirk of her own taking shape, "If you prefer, think of it as a whimsical noble hiring your mighty sword-arm as protection. The compensation is handsome, I can assure you."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

He laughed, small and warm at her words. "Funny what a bit of warmth will do to one so used to the cold," he nod, and dealt with the mix of feelings of having someone so interested in his well being. Someone who asked after him. "Of course," he found himself saying without much of a delay.

She fixed him with a look, as he went on eating. Mentioned her seal, reassured him that she would help however she could. He wanted to laugh a little, as he felt his nerves a tingle. A flutter. But he managed to restrain it to a smile.

"You'll be the first to know," he tried to smooth her concerns, and took another bight of his meal.

It'd only been a night. And everything already felt so different. A weight in his chest, where so oft was a pang of emptiness. The sound of stirring ice a pleasant little noise that cooled him.

Not long till Lechies broke the quiet once more. Gave voice to something new. Garrod listened on. Her attempt at humor managed to cut a grin across his lips. "My mighty sword-arm, huh?" he pointed to her with the dainty little fork he had been using to skewer the chunks of fruit. "And I'm the flirt?" the fork bobbed, spun, and stabbed into a piece of gooey peach. "Of course I'll join you," he smiled softly. Popped the bit of fruit into his mouth. Chewed. Passed it down. "Just gotta head home and make ready my pack, and we can head out as soon as you'd like," a small pause as he looked up at her, saw how the light played against the delicate trace of her features, how a bead of sunlight lit the tip of her nose, and passed through her hair to turn it a more fiery red. "Another adventure with you is reward enough,"

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Incorrigible. She could feel the blush creeping anew across her cheeks. Perhaps from now on, in Garrod's presence, her face would never not be a garden of roses in full bloom.

"Your devotion is noted, brave warrior," Lechies beamed, "but devotion alone won't cover your expenses." She sipped from her glass, and the chilled tea helped to settle the pleased warmth that burned in her chest. "I won't draw up a formal contract if you don't want one, but I did mean the compensation part in earnest. A competitive rate, if it pleases you."

And maybe a bonus for... exemplary performance, she almost said, but did not. At least one of them had to be able to go ten seconds without flirting like lovesick teenagers.

Not that she was complaining. It was nice, to be held front and center in Garrod's attention, to receive the fruits of that beautiful poet's mind of his. Lechies could understand how some women fell so easily for a charming tongue.

"And thank you. Your company is welcome and appreciated. Let's leave tomorrow morning? We can take the rest of today to recuperate and enjoy ourselves."

Lechies motioned towards the gardens. Not at the gardens themselves, but outdoors in general. "Any particular items on your agenda? I can give you a proper tour of the estate, show you Mother's greenhouse or Father's workshop... Or, if there were errands you needed to run before we depart, I can be your tagalong. Help you carry your bags, or somesuch." She chuckled.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"Ever practical," he said in a low rumble, and listened on as he took a last bite of fruit. Chewed it as he put the dainty little plate down. "It pleases me," he said, half grin still on his face. "Though favors oft come without pay, in my experience," he teased her.

"Tomorrow morning it is then," he said. Looked to the outside she had motioned toward, smiled at her eagerness to help. "I'll have to visit some shops, pick up some... essentials," he thought on his usual orders. Wondered if the Healer would have what he needed in stock. "I would gladly take your assistance," he smiled gently. His eye came back to rest upon her. "Would be rude to leave without having a meal with your family, wouldn't it?" He asked, unsure. His eye moved down to view the back of his hand.

Sinns always made a point to show proper hospitality. For all his faults, the man was never stingy in that regard, and Garrod could still feel the sting of the wooden spoon whence it had struck the back of his hand.

Odd. That he would think on that now.

Garrod looked back up. "Though, suppose we could have dinner with them, right?" he smiled. "Would be good to get back into something that actually fits me," he laughed, and pulled a couple of tugs on the collar of his shirt. "Should we hit the town then?" he couldn't help but smile.

---

It was... Odd taking a carriage down to the Outer City, and having watched everything change. Most of the architecture remained the same. The old stuff at least. Made of stone and brick. A little more cracked, a little less colorful, if only because the dust of everyday life hung in the air all the more with the comings and goings of common life.

The laborers, the apprentices and assistants. They, in large part, called the Outer City home. Artisans too of course, but for those things all needed. Pots and pans, wash tubs, barrels, tankards and dishware. It was a far more practical place. Space was a commodity too costly to leave unused, and buildings seemed to stack ontop of each other with the industry of the smallfolk dreams, alongside their need for shelter.

Course, there were the places most avoided.

The sort of place Garrod's small home was found near. But the small home seemed, almost out of place. Made of sturdy old stone, if only a tad neglected on the outside, with bricks that needed to be reset, and weeds that needed to be pulled from where they had crept into the masonry.

"Well," Garrod said half in disbelief as the carriage came to a stop. "There it is," he gave Lechies' hand a nervous little squeeze. He half laughed. "Come on then," he said as he opened the door, and helped her down. The dust still settled about the wheels, and the carriage driver scanned about the road, a bit apprehensive.

"Oh, ifin you ain't fancy today, Master Garrod," an old hobbled woman called out from infront of her own little home. "A carriage, and better yet, a lovely lady,"

The Yaegir, and Miss Nievi's neighbor, stood tall and formal. "Miss Nievi,"

"Oh, go on, boy, no need to be so formal, just sayin how do, and, glad to see some good about ya,"

Garrod cleared his throat. "Of course, Miss Nievi," he bowed his head to the old woman, out of habit more than anything. He went to the door, and opened the unlocked door.

She smiled her toothless smile, and went about her business, tending to a small garden plot of greenery with a watering can.

"You, can... come in if you'd like," Garrod said, as he opened the door to the small home.

Inside, it was a spartan affair. A collection of books against the far wall, packed into two tall bookcases that went up to the ceiling. There was an area for the cook fire, and a proper chimney overhead. There was an entirely separate room, where the cot was. Modest, and well constructed. Inside that room, Garrod moved to the armoire, opened the wooden doors, and peeled off his shirt.

"Your're, welcome to... have a read!" he called back.

The books on one bookcase were dogeared and well loved. Collections of folktales, and a series of romance novels alongside bound works of poetry, from Alliria, Elbion, Vel Anir and even Belgrath. Technical tomes packed the other. Compendiums of regional flora and fauna. A collection of maps, bound between leather. And many a bestiary. Organized by creature type.

Notably, there were few trophies laying about. No heads mounted to the walls. Though there was a singular longsword run across the wall, made of fine steel, with old runes etched upon its blade, similar to those that run up the road of Garrod's own sword.

By the window, there was a small pot with a dead rose bush there in. Its petals, long dead and dried, hung stubornly to to dried stem. On the table by the same window, was a leather roll, a corked bottle of ink, and a leather journal, closed, but not bound shut.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

"A favor for a favor. Seems fair," she teased back.

Dinner with her family. Garrod, amongst her family, a part of her family. The mental image that painted itself against the canvas of her mind only warmed her in such a way that not even the chilled tea could help. Lechies's eyes were lidded with affection as she reached across the table to take his hand, gently coax it away from his collar, and stroke his fingertips, pleasantly rough under her touch.

"We shall," she agreed.

------​

After their brunch concluded, Lechies bade Garrod wait a few minutes while she changed her attire. Garments appropriate for the daughter of a wealthy mage family did not necessarily translate to garments appropriate for strolling about in the Outer City. Lechies had no wish to be mugged on the street, nor invite the desperate to make an attempt, even if she (and Garrod) were soundly capable of thwarting any trouble. She would meet Garrod in the foyer dressed in clothing of a make he was probably more accustomed to seeing on her: common cottons and sturdy leathers, mostly free of useless adornments--though the sapphire-studded Metisan hammer on her cloak's clasp remained.

Lechies informed Pear of their agenda for the afternoon, and that they would be back for dinner. Pear promised to relay this information to the rest of the family, and arranged for transport into the city.

Their carriage rumbled along the streets, the journey becoming marginally bouncier as they transitioned from the well-kept roads of the Inner City to the Outer City's more roughshod ones. Lechies did not come to these parts often, though there had been occasions where only the Outer City's shops carried what she needed, mostly pertaining to her duties as an agent of the Greendawn. Special reagents or rare materials that only changed hands in crooked alleyway markets, information that only left the lips of patrons in a seedy tavern, or an artificer who worked their craft more brilliantly than any even within the Inner City, a true diamond in the rough. Or if not for her own sake, Lechies had certainly accompanied her guildmates on enough errands and quests alike to be familiar with the district's unique charm.

Stories and anecdotes of these, Lechies told to Garrod in the form of small talk until the carriage finally pulled up on a small residential street.

Lechies beheld the little house as she stepped down from the carriage. In every detail she committed to memory resounded the reminder: this was Garrod's home. A part of his history, a part of his identity. And as someone who had elected to tie her fate with his, this history and identity would be Lechies's to know, as well.

She was assuring the driver that their stop here would be a short one when Garrod's neighbor made her appearance. Lechies watched the exchange with a mildly entertained smile, though she did correct her expression into one of affable politeness when Miss Nievi's gaze swung her way.

"She seems lovely in her own right," Lechies remarked in his ear with a small laugh as she followed him inside.

Part of her would admit relief to find that Garrod's house was fully furnished and actually looked like someone lived in it. There were guildmates who kept nothing more than what they could carry with them on their next adventure. Their personal rooms at the guild hall held only a bed to rest their heads on at the end of the day. As much as Lechies liked to travel, she couldn't imagine carrying on without a proper home to return to.

But this was a proper home, if the occupants of Garrod's bookshelves were any indication. Lechies didn't touch any of them despite the invitation to, but she did glance over their contents, mouthing the titles to herself. Fables, romance, poetry. Tales that bards loved so. From their cracked spines, it was apparent where Garrod had learned to weave his sweetest words.

The poor roses on the sill though, were beyond hope. Lechies shook her head, fond, as she looked through the window to what little view there was. Mainly the stone and brick facades of adjacent buildings, though here and there wildflowers grew out of patches of dirt, spots of stubborn color against the gray and dust. When Lechies peered further outside and looked to her left, she could see that another neighbor had strung colorful rags along the eaves, as if in solidarity with the flowers below.

"It's a nice place. Very you," she said, voice raised for Garrod to hear her amusement from the other room. "I do feel badly for your roses, though. Did you not ask Miss Nievi to help you water them in your absence?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

The sounds of something clunking and clinking together. Ties come tight with a quick pull. Leather stretched, and metal knocked.

"Ha," he laughed warmly. "Thanks," he said brightly. Appeared beneath the doorframe, in a linen shirt that fit him proper, and a pair of canvas pants. He had travel pack loaded with his kit slung over his shoulder. His chestplate strapped on to the pack like a hollowed out turtle shell, gauntlets greaves, and sabatons stuffed into the space betwixt the chestplate and placard. "You mean in how humble, yet well constructed it is, I take it?" he grinned, and stepped toward her.

I do feel badly for your roses though...

He made a sound, as if made to think. "I am not sure why, I never quite thought of that," he confessed, and laid the burden of equipment down with a thunk by the door. His eye drift down to the roses, dry as they were. The old plant, long dead there was a wistfulness to his expression then. A far away tenderness. As if he stared at an old wound.

"Lucky me that you are here, then," he smiled, warmer as he looked to her. In his home. "Seeing you stand in the glow of the noonday sun," he stepped closer to her. Took her hand into his, felt her fingers and palms between his own. "Getting to hold you, and, hear you talk about Miss Nievi," he laughed. Bent low to place a kiss, just below the knuckles of her forefinger and middle. He rose up, and spent a moment longer. "Of course, you are right," he said in a low candor. "And the next plant will be all the better for your wisdom,"

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies's reply was a pleased murmur, eyes lit with tenderness. She reached out to straighten a crease in Garrod's shirt that he'd missed; a tug, and then a gentle pass of her fingers over the fabric. It was warm like a furnace beneath her touch.

"Aye, best put these ones out of their misery. Let me know when you go to pick new flowers? I'd like to join you. If... you don't mind, of course."

She glanced at Garrod's equipment, a proper kit befitting a veteran adventurer, and tilted her head towards the door. "Is that everything you need? I did promise our driver we wouldn't be long. As much as I would like to linger here, glowing in the sun's rays." She laughed.

In short time they were rumbling along the Outer City streets once again, making their way towards Leviathan Square. The buildings around this market grew tall and crooked, seeming to lean further towards one another the longer you stared up at the slice of sky between their dusty eaves.

Lechies and Garrod stepped out of the carriage into a ruckus of hawker's cries, customers' rebuttals, the occasional child's shout or the bark of a dog. Despite having eaten brunch not so long ago, the stray scent of sizzling meat from a nearby stall tested Lechies's discipline. There was just something about street food that delighted the palate in a way impossible to replicate by even the greatest noble's kitchen.

But for the moment she turned her attention away, and instead looked to the artificer shop on the other end of the street. Its windows were tinted dark, reflecting only passersby as they ambled past, but she recognized the tendrils of magic that sparked and snapped behind the panes, wild and soothing in their rhythm not unlike a blacksmith's chiming hammer.

"Hm. I should have my gloves examined as long as we're here." She said it almost to herself, tugging lightly on the cuff of said item on her left hand. "Make sure the sigils are still holding up well, or get them reinforced if they're not. Do you mind if we make a stop?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

His eye trailed after her hand as she reached out and adjusted his shirt. He bit his lip and the corner of his mouth crooked as she smoothed the fabric down. The trace of her hand trailed warm lines of touch in its wake.

"I would like for nothing more," he confessed, his eye moved slow as it followed the line of her arm, and rolled its gaze over her shoulder to regard her winsome features, the coppery red of her tresses, how they burned with hints of gold, and struck with orange.

He stared at her eyes a moment. First her left, then her right. Her eyes fell to his kit, but her hand remained. He coughed a little, if only to get himself out of the comfortable lull that he seemed so comfortable in.

"Y-yeah, just need my sword," he said with a grin. His smile softened as she laughed, and he took in the sound like a parched plant did water. "Doesn't sound so bad, does it?" he huffed happily, "Lingering together," and let his hand clasp over hers for a moment, felt how it fit beneath his. "But, right, the driver," he nod, and let his hands slip as he moved back to his room. "Just a second then,"

---

When they popped out of the carriage, he adjusted his sword belt as the smells of the street fare wafted aout the air. He craned his head back to check over his kit.

Armor bundled with his pack, His monster slaying blade strapped to the roof of the carriage looked something like a horrible spine. He smirked. Caught Lechies eyeing the Aberesai style meats, roasting on a spit, seasoned and dripping fat into a fire that sizzled too happy with each drop. Rounds of flat breads piled high just to the side of the rotating roast.

Her eye drift elsewhere, and his look followed. "Not at all," he said as he dodged a young courier who hustled on by, the package they carried balanced precariously atop their head. Garrod followed after Lechies, and they made their way down to the Artificer's.

Beldrake's Enchantments and Enmagickings, read the silver-laid script upon the sign outside the establishment. Fine and elegant and flowing. It looked like each letter was carved with lightning, so precise were the curves, and so clean was the trace of blue across the bright metal.

A bright chime came from the door as it opened. And Garrod too could feel the flows and sparks of magick that pulsed from inside the establishment as he stood at the frame, a hand motioned for Lechies to go on ahead as he held the door.

A young person sat behind the desk. Fine leather goggles, fixed upon their face, with big bug eyed lenses of dark tinted glass that protected her eyes from the intense light that arced from her wand. A fine dagger upon her workstation, held up by delicate looking clamps.

Garrod cleared his throat loudly.

The young artificer wiggled their nose. Tile their head. Realized someone had come. Let the line of lightning fizzle out, and straightened up. Saw Lechies and Garrod. "Oh!" they said excitedly. "Lady Delrio!" she grabbed her goggles and pulled them up off her eyes with a large grin. "What a pleasant surprise!"

She blinked, saw Garrod behind her. "And the Yaegir," she nod. Nod again. "Well, Master Ilendil is out at the moment, so, well, no one can work on your big ol hunk of metal there, Hunter, sorry to say, but Lady Delrio, is there anything I can do for you?"

Garrod laughed under his breath. "Suppose that is the only thing I ever come in here for,"

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies smiled at Garrod in thanks as she stepped over the threshold into Beldrake's interior.

Just past the entrance, she paused to surreptitiously, unintentionally, take a deep whiff of the air inside. In the same way that entering a tavern brought with it the hearty intermingled scent of ales and spices, so too did entering an artificer's shop deliver a veritable feast to her sixth senses. The collective energies of the many tools and weapons here formed a sensory experience not unlike taking a mouthful of rich stew. It brought her great satisfaction to bask in the glow of it all, to focus on the buzzing caress of dozens of magical items across her skin.

Then the door shut behind Garrod, and Lechies followed him to the front desk. She grinned slightly at the artificer's lack of awareness, and grinned a little more widely when she -- both of them -- were recognized.

"Hello, Sindy. It's good to see you again."

The fondness in Lechies' greeting was genuine. It was not so long ago that Ilendil's brow would have dug the deepest furrows at the suggestion of leaving his apprentice to mind the shop alone. Lechies could only assume that Sindy's training was going well if her teacher had dared to step away.

"Yes, actually. Might you perform a routine check on my gloves?"

Lechies stripped them and laid them on the desk. Sindy pretended not to take notice of the scars bisecting her hand, and instead turned her attention to the runework in the leather, fine thread shimmering a gentle silver.

"Sure, sure. I remember these. Was a... protective spell, yeah? That was worked into the leather?"

"That it was."

"Alright! Won't be but a few minutes."

Back down came the goggles, and Sindy seated herself at a different station, where a brass arm arched upwards and then branched out to hold five glass disks of incrementing size above the table. She tapped the bottom of the arm; white light shot up and along each branch to settle in the disks, where they came alive with a brilliant, buzzing glow.

Sindy angled the second smallest disk above one glove, turning it this way and that, pressing into the leather, tugging at its seams, before doing the same with the other glove. Then she laid the gloves flat on the table, woven sigils upward, and angled her wand down. The tip of it flared fiercely, and the threads responded with a crimson flash. Another spark from the wand; another flash. The shop walls danced with their light.

After several repetitions of this, Sindy deactivated the table, yanked the goggles up, and took the gloves back over. She dropped them into Lechies's waiting hand. They were pleasantly warm.

"The enchantment's holding, and should keep a while longer." Sindy pointed at the left glove, where extra stitching crossed through one of the sigils. It had been careful work; the sigil's shape still held, but the slight discoloration of the thread betrayed that it was newer than the rest. "But this one saw some damage, right? Not the magical kind, just regular ol' damage of the fang, claw, or blade variety?" At Lechies' nod, Sindy continued. "Right. So the repair work was good, but even good repair work can't change the fact that the item itself ain't in mint condition anymore. If it was a regular glove, it wouldn't matter so much, but you're trusting this thing to carry a spell in it. If I was you, I'd get a new glove as soon as I could. With a fresh enchantment, of course."

Lechies nodded again as she pulled the gloves back onto her hands. "Thank you for the advice. Do you happen to have any in stock?"

Sindy rubbed her chin, eyes going to the ceiling as she thought. "Let's see... In your size, no. At least, not in the combo of plain leather and that specific enchantment. Unless you're okay with gauntlets? Plated backs? Fingerless? Actually, scratch that; pretty sure the fingerless style's sold out, too..."

"Why don't I just place an order for the next time, and keep with my old ones for today?"

"Sure!" Sindy looked so very young for a moment, visibly giddy with the prospect of making a sale while her master was away. "Over here if you please then, Lady Delrio."

"Sorry," Lechies said to Garrod, even as she made to follow Sindy to the counter, where the young apprentice was retrieving paperwork and a measuring ribbon. "Does anything catch your eye?" She tilted her head to the shelves on other end of the shop, where Beldrake's ready-made products sat on display. Rings and amulets and bangles, polished and bright. Weapons of all variety, laid with gems or carved with shining runework. Gloves and boots any tailor would be proud of. "Feel free to pick something if you like. Consider it a... courtship present." This last part was whispered, the curve of Lechies's mouth mischievous as she stepped away.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

A small croak of a laugh came from Garrod, who half loomed about the transaction, half perused the wares that hung about the walls, and stood proud along the weapon and armor racks. Of course the fingerless style were out of stock.

Though magic detection never really was his forte, even he felt the stir and tingle of the potent spellcraft that resided within Beldrake's. A boyish smile crooked his lip when he saw the knives in particular. A curious little hum rumbled in the back of his throat.

His eye flit to her, when she spoke next his expression eased as he laughed a little and raised a hand. "Not a worry," he assured, and looked over the weapons once more. "Couple things," he said, roguish like. Her next comment had him red in the face a little. A look of surprise, quick to turn buttery smile. "Spoilin' me, huh?" he asked, eye trailing her as she made away.

After a bit of perusing of his own, Garrod picked one blade up. Felt the weight of it in his hand. Eyed the unique forward curve, and measured the heft. Gave it a twirl. Then whirl. It felt, quite natural, despite being in his unnatural hand. He let his fingers re-adjust their grip. Heard his chitinous digits clack soft against the wood of the handle. With a little toss, he tried the blade in his left hand.

It was a nice one, but maybe another blade wasn't what he needed. He kept looking, settling on the assortment of gloves and bangles, his eye keen on the runes of enchantment.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

"You want just plain leather, right?" Sindy snapped the measuring ribbon open across Lechies's fingers.

"Yes, please."

"And a sigil of magic resistance, again?"

At Sindy's beckoning, Lechies lifted her hand so that the ribbon could wrap around her wrist. "Yes."

Sindy scratched notes into parchment. "That's it? Any other customizations?" The ribbon spread diagonally across Lechies's palm.

Lechies paused. "I was under the impression that weaving multiple enchantments into the gloves would compromise their effectiveness."

"The protective sigil's potent on its own, aye, but you could squeeze something else onto the gloves if it was small. Warming sigils are pretty popular, and not just with you adventurin' types. Out of season, though, so I can offer you a discount if you wanna go for it?"

"Ah," Lechies replied, faintly amused by Sindy's eager smile. "No, I don't usually have a problem with cold hands. But thank you for the offer."

The rest of the process was quick. Lechies handed over the coin, signed both invoices, one of which she folded and tucked into her cloak, and thanked Sindy with a shaking of hands. Sindy returned to working on the dagger, and Lechies found Garrod browsing by the windows.

"Find anything?"

She put a hand to the small of his back as she glanced over the accessories laid out in front of them.

A wooden mannequin hand sat on the shelf, rings gleaming under the sunlight. Lechies pointed out the one on its middle finger. A rounded emerald shone smartly in the prongs, sigils carved fine as hair along the inside of the silver band.

"Missile turning charm, I think. This one suits you. Well, suits your eye."

Lechies leaned into Garrod, affection glowing on her face as she enjoyed the sight of him, precious green gem of his own glittering back at her.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod hummed at Lechies' question. Thoughts still gathered behind his eye. He clicked his teeth. "Nothing yet,"

It wasn't as if he did not enjoy finery. Be it of clothing, or kit. Things well made, be they boots, armor, or jewelry, had a magic all their own. So why then, he wondered as he turned over a torque, fashioned as a twin headed snake with the runes for silent steps, was he finding this so difficult?

Come the gentle weight of Lechies' hand, a measured slip against the grooves of his back, he near startled up straight. Eye widened some as it found her. Eased as he smirked. Warmth spread about his cheeks as sparks danced about her touch.

She pointed out a ring, and he pushed out a surprised little huh as he set down the torque. "Think so?" he asked, his head keeled toward her as he plucked it from the manikin with his own left hand. Turned it about his finger tips, and slipped it onto his middle finger with a sleight.

His eye turned to her, and saw how she looked at him. The warm light of the sun refracted across the greens, browns, and blues of her hazel eyes.

"Have me feeling like a duck, looking for the bottom of the pond," he said with breathlessness. His cheeks reddened, and he felt warmth creep up his neck, but he held her eyes with his. As if to make up for all that time he couldn't see them.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies tried and failed to hold back a laugh. A duck, dipping its head under the pond in search of food in its murky depths. Back legs and fluffy rear wiggling in the air. A duck whose head was as white as a snow-capped mountain. The mental image did amuse her so.

She held Garrod's gaze, smile almost shifting into a smirk as color crept across his cheeks. "Did that line come from your books of poetry?" she said, the words so low they were almost a whisper. "I like it. Keep that one."

There was the thought that she should behave herself, given where they were; Lechies glanced over her shoulder, but Sindy was fully occupied with her work, sparks flying like fountain spray from the tip of her wand. So Lechies took this opportunity to rise on tiptoe, press her hand to Garrod's cheek, and a kiss to his lips. The briefest moment of tenderness for them both to enjoy as she took his hand in her other, and gently slipped the ring from his finger.

"A green gem to complete the set," she said to him, and winked as she went back for the counter.

Sindy was only happy to help Lechies make the purchase--another sale in her mentor's absence!--and if she noticed the kind of eyes Lechies made at Garrod as she put the ring in his palm, warm with their heat, then the young artificer was too polite to remark. Sindy waved them out of the shop with a cheery "Thanks for your patronage! See you soon, Lady Delrio!"

Back on the street, once again assailed by the bewitching scent of roasting meat and fresh-baked bread, Lechies simply stood there for a moment, made content by the presence of Garrod at her side, and his hand in hers.

"Where to next? You said you needed to restock some essentials, yes?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"Well," he said, warm in the pause before she confessed. He gave a slow nod, a smile ever there upon his lips. "Glad to hear,"

Gladder still to see. The little shifts, the glance away, her weight come up from the ground, her hand brush against his cheek, and the supple press of her lips to his.

Gone as quick as it had come.

He was left, with heart aflutter, in her wake.

The tickle of her breath, cool for all the warmth.

Took him a moment to put two and two together. A green gem to complete the set,

He smirked as his eye flit down to his left, devoid of the enchanted ring.

Outside, the sun shined warm against his skin. Garrod eyed the ring as it glint on his finger. Huffed happy as he thought on the band of silver, the jewel of green. The look, bright with roguish gleam.

"What if we share a little snack first?" he asked as his eye came up to regard her. A warmth there in the question, that was more announcement as he keeled towards the new target. Teeth poking out in hungry smile.

The closer they got the brighter the smells of the spices. Things from far away lands, where chilies and sesame took root. The earthiness of cumin, mixed with the peppery heat of red spices, and the herbal gold of turmeric.

The cart seller's name was Mendi. Garrod had come to know him over the years. Their rapport was familiar, friendly. So, when it was time to pay up, Mendi shook his head, and waved his fingers across the flat iron.

"Next time, Hunter," with quick, practiced motions, he worked his knife across the spit of roatsing meat.

Pieces fell onto the flat iron, and the cuts of meat sizzled as he scraped, scraped, clattered, dashed with seasoning, and slapped them onto a round of pillowy flat bread where it steamed. Then the second. Dressed them with some diced cucumbers, and left a sliced wedge of lemon there, tucked between the the meat and the bread. Offered them up, proud.

"On me today," Mendi gave a firm nod. No room for arguments.

Garrod smirked. And took up the food stuffs, wrapped in old pamphlet parchments, with a nod. Careful not to spill the hot juice.

He handed one to Lechies. "These one's are daragor meat," he grinned. "Mendi pays good coin to source them local,"

Spiced, seasoned, and well kissed by the heat of hot iron, the white meat dripped fat, and mixed with the cool juice of the cucumbers.


Garrod plucked up the lemon wedge off his, and squirt it across the top. "Got a potion shop I like to frequent," he confessed, and took a chomp out of the Abarasi shawarma. Chewed, and swallowed. "Just down a block," he took another bite out of the warm and savory wrapped confection.

Lechies Delrio

 

[Lechies Delrio]

"Oh, no," Lechies said, leaning slightly away, trying in vain to hide from the brilliance of his smile. She may as well have closed her eyes in an attempt to hide from the sun. "Should we? Did you not have enough to eat? I'm really not that-"

Hungry, she tried to say. But the gurgle of her stomach finished the sentence for her, and Lechies would not hope that Garrod hadn't heard it.

What else could she do at that point, except surrender? Lechies gave a mock sigh. "Alright... Just a snack. And if we do end up ruining our appetites for dinner, I'll take all the blame."

Garrod gravitated towards the stalls, and Lechies trailed after like a kite, string clutched in his hand. She watched with great interest as the meat seller crafted their order, and tilted her head with greater interest still as the man waived payment.

"You come by his cart often, then?"

She took one of the wraps from him with a nod of thanks. The juice flowed dangerously close to the edge of the parchment. In the interest of preventing any accidents, Lechies shucked her gloves and tucked them into her pockets--though, without their protection, the heat of the wraps was almost too much to bear. Lechies passed it quickly from one hand to the other, blowing gently, until she could tolerate the temperature. Only then did she take a nibble, careful not to burn her tongue, and hummed her appreciation.

"Coin well spent! Very tender." She wiped her knuckle across a dribble of juice that had escaped from the corner of her mouth. "Mm! Very nice. I see now the wisdom in frequent snacking," she teased. "Henceforth I promise not to give you grief about cookies or little sandwiches ever again. And you may hold my words against me, should I break this promise."

Next, a potion shop. Lechies nodded again as she took another bite. A map of Leviathan Square unfurled in her mind.

"Might you mean Rosecrown?" she asked once she'd swallowed. "I've sold reagents to them on several occasions. They treat mercenaries well in that regard, don't they?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"Often enough," he confessed with a hint of pride. "Made a bit of a name for myself bringing Mendi his haul back in the day," Took a second bite that got him past the halfway point. He made quick work of the bite before he went on. Minded his manners, if just a little more amidst current company. "Helped me get started as an adventurer, truth be told," he said with some fondness, and a faraway look in his eye.

The heat never bothered him none.

He laughed as she made a promise. "Your words, huh?" he asked and took a smaller bite from the bread and meat confection. Wiggled his brow a little as he wiped clean his mouth with the back of his wrist. "Could think of a few things I'd rather hold, but" he teased in return, gave nod. "Wizard words'll do just fine," he grinned. Started to take a bight when she mentioned Rosecrown. He finished his bite. Nodded.

"That's the one," he popped the last bit of succulent meat and toasty bread into his mouth. Crinkled up and scrunched the juice laden parchment up, careful not to let any spill. "They've good rates, far as I can tell," he tossed the greasy ball of parchment up into the air, and with a snap of the finger, it flashed into bright flame and turned to ash before it could begin to fall.

A child stood still with mouth agape, holding on the skirts of his mother. She scrunched her brows at Garrod and his reckless use of magick. Shook her head with dissaproval and hurried her impressionable son along.

Garrod gave a nervous chuckle as he watched them away.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies pursed her lips, half holding back her laughter, and half still chewing her food. Garrod so did love flashy little displays. Perhaps it was how he advertised his services as a monster hunter -- a casual show of magic, as proof that he could wield flames even fiercer to take down his prey.

She would not deny that she found it kind of attractive.

Either way, she shook her head in turn at the back of the retreating woman, deeply amused. "That child's going to be doing impressions of you for the next week, minimum."

Said child was still peering back at the two of them from behind his mother's protective arm. His eyes were ever so wide with lingering wonder, and seeing that, impish impulse took hold of Lechies. She snapped her fingers too; gloveless, the sound was crisp, and the friction birthed not fire as it had for Garrod, but a spark of golden light, a harmless little sigil that hung briefly in the air before fading off into shimmering motes. The child's mouth dropped open a second time, delight and awe writ on his young face, before he and his mother finally disappeared around the corner.

"Well, magical interest is best nurtured young, as they say." Lechies bumped her shoulder to Garrod's, feeling satisfied and fond. She took another bite of her meat wrap.

Rosecrown came into view as they neared the end of the block. The shop's name was painted dark in curving strokes onto a wooden sign, with a carved rose rising from the corner of it. Rows of potions stood at proud attention behind the tall windows, little plaques telling of the day's bargains. The scent of something earthy and mildly bitter wafted from the open door.

Over the threshold, they would find their vision assaulted by shelves of bottles in every color of the rainbow, and every shade in between. It was not unlike stepping into a candy store; the bright hues surrounding them were a feast enough to the eyes that they also looked delicious enough to eat. Lechies assumed that the pervasive smell of blended herbs were just as much a reminder to any children not to sneak a sip.

The woman behind the counter was in the middle of working her mortar and pestle, sleeves rolled up and tied above her elbows, hands covered by thick gloves. A set of brass scales held a gnarled clump of roots opposite the weights on the other end. Past that was a little bubbling cauldron of murky liquid. The fires heating its belly threw warmth and light against the empty bottles waiting patiently beside it.

She looked up when she noticed Garrod and Lechies's entrance. "Welcome, welcome!" came the cheery greeting.

The potion-maker's face glowed with the exertion of her craft, but it was a smile she wore as she wiped her wrist across her forehead. Slightly pointed ears poked out from behind pink locks.

"What can I do for you?" She paused, eyes sweeping in a line across their faces, and seemed to recall something. "Adventurers, aren't you? Are you buying or selling today? I'm always in the market for fresh reagents, as you know."

"I'm just browsing, Miss Melodia, thank you," Lechies replied. She gave Garrod a meaningful smile before stepping away to explore the shelves.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"A casualty of flair," he joked alongside her. "Worse things to pretend to be," he trailed off.

Were there worse things than hunter of monsters?

A catchpole.

He smirked at how easy that had come, and then his eye was caught by a shimmering sigil. Its bright glow painted a full smile across his lips. For however prim and proper Lechies' upbringing had been, the College Wizard was every bit as prideful and mischievous as he was.

She gave him a bump. And he laughed small and to himself as he followed after her. "You don't say," he answered with a little rumble to his words.

Glad didn't begin to describe what he felt as he strode alongside her. As if her strides made his own all the easier. Her pull, broke whatever weight could bare down on him. Changed as he was after all of their adventure.

His head too full of warm things. Soft thoughts. Tea and cookies. The blaze he had felt when called to fight for her honor. As silly and foolish as such a thing had been. The wicked confidence she had showed for him then crooked his lip as they strode. Easy as easy could be.

The bell above Rosecrown chimed bright, and soon the strong earthy and bitter scents of herbs, fungus, mosses and oils knocked him back down from the little flight of fancy he had found himself upon.

Lechies smiled to him, and he felt it sink into his chest. His own lips spread like the wings of a fuzzy moth, drawn to a new flame, and his heart fluttered fast behind it.

"Well, Yaegir?" Miss Melodia called out to the lovestruck brute. A small hint of humor there in the curl of her lips, and twinkle of her eye.

Garrod straightened, and cleared his throat as he turned toward Miss Melodia. "Just, buying up some basics, Ma'am,"

She quirked a pink brow. Smiled warm again. Gave a Nod. "Right! Off on another adventure, I take it," she announced, and moved, efficient and quick as she gathered up bottles of various size and shape. They knocked gentle against the countertop. A few set far apart from the rest. One was filled with a thick red tincture that looked almost like blood, then another seemed to fizz and glow with an almost electric luminance. "Healing and Mana, never smart to leave without at least one or two more than you think you'll need," she gave Garrod a wnk, and motioned to the others assorted there too. "Cat's Eye, Salamander's Breath, Invisibility Draught, Stryx Essence, and even some Day Light vials," she nod proudly. Then peered over to Lechies, and grinned, "Take your time then!" she moved back to her mortar and pestle, and set herself to work once more.

Garrod nod, and thought things over some.