Private Tales Candle in the Window

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies only half-listened to Garrod's exchange with the proprietress. She browsed the shelves in an unhurried fashion, mouthing the contents of the bottles to herself as she drifted down the aisle, fingers passing gently over glass.

It was odd, in some ways, to be taking care of her pre-journey shopping in another's company. Despite all these years with the Greendawn, Lechies still preferred to see to such matters on her own. She'd always thought herself a solitary creature at heart; after all, to form bonds with others was to expose her benefactor to risk of discovery. It was a fine line she'd managed to tread with apparent success, for she'd never heard her peers describe her as unfriendly or unapproachable, and Lechies in turn had never felt lonely... And yet, to know Garrod's presence in her orbit, and know that he would remain there for some time if only she asked, filled her with a deeply serene sort of peace.

Warm with the thought, Lechies glanced towards the counter -- just in time to catch Miss Melodia's gaze. There was something of an entertained glimmer in the other woman's eye. The familiar heat of embarrassment crept up Lechies's neck, and she looked away.

Gods, was their fondness so obvious to anyone who laid eyes on the two of them for more than a few seconds? After years and years of hiding her demon from others, was Lechies already this bad at staying discreet? No, no. This would not do. Appearances had to maintained, secrets kept hidden...

And yet, did they? Was it such an awful thing, for the world to know that... that Garrod belonged to her, and she to him? The greatest obstacle had always been her parents' approval, and that beast was now slain. What more did she need?

Mind whirling with these questions, Lechies finally chose a selection of bottles and brought them to the counter. Miss Melodia's smile was only kind as she looked the items over.

"Two bottles of Phoenix Spit, four of Scholar's Friend, and one Wives' Tea. Will that be all?"

Lechies made an affirmative noise. A price was named, coin passed over the counter. Lechies bundled her purchase into her pack.

To Garrod, she put a hand on his arm and said, "I'll be waiting outside. No rush." Maybe she'd clear her head better, away from the thick scent of herbs.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"Right," Garrod's brow twist as he looked over the glass vials, and crossed his arms over his chest as he weighed things set upon the scales of his mind.

Lechies had picked her supply so quickly. Knew exactly what she would need, and had it ready and packed before he had even settled and made his own choice.

Salamnder's Breath was always cheapest here in Alliria, the trade ports saw an ample supply of dried salamander tongues delivered come the end of the month, so prices remained steady. Cats eye and Stryx Essence, however were always marked up and!

None of that really mattered then. Nor was it his real concern. "I'll just take the usual order, Miss Melodia, the Hunter's Special,"

A nod nod from the Apothecary. "Two Spits, one Friend, and single dosses of the utility flight," her hands moved with a smooth quickness. Bottle after bottle laid down, then a set of multi-colored vials, neatly bundled in some hempen ruck.

Coin exchanged, and pleasantries and well wishes given, Garrod stepped out of the shop. Adjusted his pack of things neath his arm and stepped up quiet beside Lechies.

"Nothing left," he started, came up besides her and stopped. "But to hit the road," he smiled with a sweet sadness there. "Was almost getting use to stickin around the city with ya, you know?"

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies cast an eye to the sky stretching bright and blue between the timeworn eaves of Leviathan Square. The noises of the city flowed around them, through them, chaotic and lively. Vibrant, in a way that filled her heart as surely as the presence of the man beside her.

She hummed in reply, a neutral note.

"Must we, though? We keep to no one's schedule but our own. No reason to return yet if we don't want to... I'm in no hurry. And besides, we already ruined our appetite for lunch with those meat wraps."

Lechies's playful smile turned tender as she tucked her arm around Garrod's, tugging lightly to take him up the street.

"In fact, our stop by Rosecrown's inspired me to ruin it further. Come this way? I've a craving."

She would take him westward, across a plaza thick with merchants hawking all manner of clothing, garments of every color and embroidery style dangling from the poles, like fishermen's catch hung out to dry. Nothing so fine that would impress a noble, perhaps, but the people of the Outer City had little need for the jewels and precious metals that the upper crust so delighted in showing off. Lechies turned her head to regard an especially lovely scarf folded onto one of the tables, ash gray with brilliant green thread along its edge, but did not slow her stride.

Past that plaza, the wares changed. A woman selling apples dipped in caramel, trying to beckon the attention of children away from their parents. Next to her, a man poured golden batter onto a sizzling pan, spreading it thin with wide, practiced sweeps with the back of his ladle. Beyond him, a vendor rolled balls of pounded rice across beds of peanut and black sesame pulverized into a fine powder.

"Dessert," Lechies sighed happily.

She pulled up to one of the carts. This one had skewers of fruit sticking out of the counter -- strawberries, grapes, blueberries, little oranges. They glistened invitingly in the sun. The seller offered a smile to the two adventurers as she stepped over to a deep, bubbling pot on the side, more skewers of fruit held firm between her fingers. These she dripped into the liquid, and they came away with a clear, shining coat that smelled strongly of sweetness.

"Two, please."

Lechies passed over the coppers. Of the skewers she got in return, one she handed to Garrod, and the other she wasted no time in bringing to her mouth. The sugar shell surrounding the first strawberry broke under her teeth, and she beamed like a child as she chewed.

"Detlef brought me one years and years ago, during one of my worse bouts of illness. Carried it in his hand like a torch, all the way back from the market and in the carriage." Lechies laughed. "I've never forgotten that first bite. Sugar always did make me feel better, no matter how poor my health."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

A simple question seemed to stop Garrod in his glum tracks. A laugh, like the huff of a proud little flame, left him. "That we do," he said in regard to their schedule, his bashful smile grew all the more. "And that we did," he added about their appetite.

Her arm looped about his again, and she pulled him along. Fool that he was for her, he was not fool enough to resist the pull she gave him.

Up the street they went. Easy, he settled into the playful gait.

"Inspired, eh?" he went on as he followed, step for step. "A craving," he said to himself. As if to test the word that fell from her lips. As if his tongue could suss the mystery out of the sounds and syllables each letter carried there within.

But he was gladder still, to just be. With her a while longer. Like this. He thought it funny. The feeling of walking by such colorful things that had made him smile days and months before, and find a new feeling still there across his lips. Now, as they walked together again.

How warm she was against him. Her shape, a bold feeling that worked into wells against his skin, pressed firm against his bones. They had only been so close, so near to this day. Though her smile had crested across his dreams oh so many nights.

A smell tickled his nose and brought him back from whatever place his mind had floated off to. He blinked as he watched the careful work of apples being dipped into what looked every bit like vats of liquid treasure. A deep golden brown that stuck to the skins, and was soon coated with crunchy confections.

"Would you look at that," he said with a boyish grin, eye larger and brighter for the sight.

The order went in, and two confections came out. Lechies took her bight, and Garrod just sort of looked at it in his hand as the soft crunch of the snack, crackled in his ear. Lechies even made an excited little sound that had him chuckle as he watched her and listened.

A scene painted itself in his mind. Another story from her past. Another piece of her history given for him to hold. Detlef, sure then as he was now, like an adventurer in his own right, come home with a treasure for his darling sister. For Lechies, wandering mage to be.

His smile felt like a candy coating, freshly stretched across his face. He took a bite out of one of the strawberries. The pop and the crumble. The way the crunch melted into sweet stickiness that coated his mouth. A pleased sound. A slow nod of agreement. Another bite. Then another.

"Whee," munch munch munch. Chomp. "Shtoppin at one?" he grinned and took the last bite of his stick.

They had a whole adventure ahead of them, after all.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies answered the question with a flat look of reproach, made somewhat ineffective by the fact that her cheeks were full of sugar-coated fruit. Perhaps she resembled a squirrel in this moment, with her mane of red hair.

Once she'd swallowed: "Greedy," came the half-hearted rebuke, almost musical in tone. She tilted her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Do you want to ruin your dinner, too?"

All the same, once they'd thrown away their empty sticks, Lechies took Garrod by the hand and, with an affectionate squeeze, pulled him along to a different cart.

The air around this one carried the scent of sweet batter and the heat of a stove. Seeing their approach, the vendor called out and beckoned to them with a commanding wave of his hand, as if worried they'd suddenly change their minds and veer off course.

"Whatcha want?"

Lechies eyed the hand-carved sign. "Hmm. Let's have two of everything, please."

He nodded and set to work. There was a large metal tray before him with rows of circular, flat-bottomed indents. From a pot on the side, he ladled batter into a funnel set with a handle, and went about piping the concoction into each of the pockets. Once the pockets were filled, he scrubbed at them with a small rounded stick, spreading the batter into a coating.

As they cooked, in went the fillings. Dark, shining chocolate. Bright, jiggly custard. Smooth taro the color of asters. Cheese like melted gold. Once the bottom of the cakes were done, the man popped them out of the tray with practiced speed, and repeated coating the pockets with batter. The cakes went back on upside-down, sealing their deliciousness within.

In due time their snacks were handed over in a paper bag. Lechies had put her gloves back on while the man prepared their wheel cakes, not eager to almost burn her fingers as she had with the meat wraps. She nibbled gingerly at the cake's golden-brown edge until the piping hot custard center was revealed, and blew at the wafting column of steam.

"Do you have much of a sweet tooth, Garrod?" she asked, waiting for it to cool. "Did Master Sinns give you treats when you aced your lessons?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod couldn't help but smile. Passed down the last bite of the confection, and wiped away at the crumbs and sticky sweetness that coated bits of his lips and the sides of his mouth. "Guilty," he said, and worked some of the sugar stuck to the tip his thumb with a kiss of his lips. A warm laugh came with his breath. "Don't you worry," he assured. "Plenty more room in the pit,"

His hand was snagged up, and they hurried off. A little adventure, fresh and full of glistening treasures. That they were edible, well, made it all the more fun. And oh how they smelled and swelled, melted and dripped, and before he knew it, Lechies put in an order for another slew of treats. Little spheres of dough, filled with all sorts of delicious things.

They'd just eaten. Had ate well in the morning too. But the smells coupled with the site of it all. How the dough turned golden brown. Crisped. Filled the air with a buttery warmth, just so tinged with vanilla, and caramelized sugar.

His right hand splayed with excitement. Shut to tight fist as the cakes were put into their bags and handed over. With his left, Garrod reached out and took his bag, with his right he grabbed at one of the cakes. Garrod took in a deep breath full of the smell of it was about to take a bite!

Then Lechies' question caught him. He blinked, with cake still clasped in his gloved hand. The heat, no bother at all.

"Well," he looked down at the little cake in his hand. How it steamed. "He did buy me a pie once or twice," he laughed. "Brought some cookies another few times, back when I was, well much younger. Always pistachio, on the days he thought was my birthday," he looked back to Lechies. "Never quite lined up to the same day though, but he always got the season right, Summer," he shared, and looked back at the pie. "He preferred giving me choice cuts of meat, or, making my favorite meal as a prize, always said, too much sugar'll get you killed come the hunt," there was a sweet melancholy to the hunter's look. But it brightened all the more. "I do, love sweets though," he confessed, and chomped down on his little cake. Chewed. Made a deep, pleased sound that had him close his eye.

It opened, and he looked to Lechies again. "Did you have a favorite?" he asked blew a bit of air across the hot cake and its bright purple pudding. "Back when Detlef brought you back your sugary delights?" he smiled soft. "Seems like the sort who'd spoil you with every sort of new treat he would come across," and though he had only met the man, Garrod felt a fondness for him, born of the thought of his dotting on the bed ridden wizardling.

Just one of the many facets he found himself admiring, all the more, as he learned so much of her.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

He loved sweets. Perhaps little Garrod had found them an effective tonic for the general bitterness of life, and that habit carried into adulthood. Same as her. A kindred spirit, and in a way that mattered more than the sharing of their bodies with demons.

Tickled by the idea, Lechies's attention returned to her cake. Not even the sting of hot custard against her tongue could dampen her grin.

"A favorite? Hm... that's a hard question to answer." The tip of her aching tongue poked out between her lips as she mulled it over for a moment. "I was mostly only happy to get anything at all from my brothers. They did their best to share the treasures of the outside world with me, knowing that I couldn't go explore it for myself." She laughed. "It just so happened that said treasures were bad for my teeth. I should be glad they didn't literally spoil me rotten. My parents probably set limits on how many treats they could feed me from week to week."

They walked leisurely along the edge of the square as they chatted, making their way towards an alley whose shade seemed a promising refuge from the press and pull of the crowd. Lechies tested her cake with a tentative lick, and, finding the temperature tolerable, dug in with enthusiasm.

"The treats Master Sinns bought you," she said between bites, "did you ask for pistachio, or was it a flavor he picked himself?" A chew, and a swallow. "You know... it is summer now. Still early in the season, but that gives us time, doesn't it?" Lechies raised her chin, eyes wide with thought. Pink gathered lightly on her cheeks. "... To celebrate your birthday, I mean."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Well, this was new.

He found himself thinking. The two of them, just, getting to be. Sharing food and thought and. Oh. His cheeks reddened as she weighed the question. Her laugh re-curled his smile, and he nod before he took another bite of the custard filled cake.

"Limits," he echoed. Nod. "Spose that's what Old Sinns was trying to set all those times he scolded me for pinching confections from the local bakers," he grinned, half proud as they walked, his eye, with its easy confidence, caught her sneaking a lick of the custard. His breath caught in his throat and he stared wide eyed for a moment. Almost forgot to keep walking.

Snapped out of the warm daze that had come over his watching. "Ask?" he replied. Chewed in turn. She mentioned the season, and he nod as they hid away in the shade of the alleyway. Why was she blushing like that? Better yet, why did his heart feel like it twist at the site of those wide eyes. "Oh..." he was struck again. Felt his own face flush.

He laughed, small and nervous. "Well," for all the squirm of gentle joy that fluttered in his stomach, he didn't let his eye drift away. Greedy green pool that it was, it would enjoy the site of her all it could. "I never asked for pistachio," he said soft and easy. "As a kid, I mean," he shared on. "Hated it really," the tinniest bit of shame in his eyes, but his smile lost none of its warmth. "I would complain and complain, but, Sinns just, always got pistachio," he laughed. Let his free left hand come up to cup her cheek. Smooth down her neck and pulled her a little closer. "But I'd love to share a little cake with you, all the same" his hand slid down her shoulder. As if feeling her was the only way he could make sure he had truly woken up this morning. He whispered, there in the quiet little alleyway. Each word a warm knock. "I can take you to the little coffee shop, where they serve the best pistachio bread, goes great with a black brew,"

 

[Lechies Delrio]

His hand curled around her, gentle in its insistence, and Lechies quickly brushed the last of the cake crumbs from her palms so that she could lean into his touch without fear of smearing the snack over his front. The noise of the crowd behind faded to a quiet murmur. Distantly, Lechies felt no embarrassment over their stolen embrace, and she was pleased to discover she cared less and less about what others thought of their courtship. All she could hear were Garrod's words, his breath warm against her ear.

"Can I be honest? I'm not all that fond of pistachio, myself." Lechies leaned her head back and peered up, laughing. "But coffee sounds delightful! Let's make an outing of it, then. Though... I suppose it would have to be either now, or later tonight, after dinner. We'll be leaving the city tomorrow..." She spoke quietly, as if talking to herself. "Ah, but I think it would be unwise to partake of anything else this afternoon, else we'll have no room for dinner. So, tonight then?"

Two visits to the city in one day. One for business, and the other for pleasure. Her family would probably have remarks, if not questions, but if her parents were going to object, then they shouldn't have given their approval of Garrod in the first place.

With that childish line of reasoning established, Lechies took Garrod's hand from her shoulder, and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. She watched him from the corner of her eyes, a smile half-tucked against the glove leather.

"If you're ready, let's go home."

Home, just as much his as hers, now. Heat bloomed pleasantly in her stomach, every bit as fulfilling as the candies and cakes that had passed her lips today.

------​

The sun was setting by the time the carriage dropped them back at the estate, casting everything in a hard outline of burnished gold. Lechies came up the walkway hand-in-hand with Garrod, amused by how much taller his elongated shadow was compared to hers. Her free hand clutched the bag containing the remainder of their wheel cakes. She hadn't been able to finish them, and had dissuaded Garrod from making the attempt, because...

"Aunt Lechies!"

As they stepped into the foyer, a boy waved from the top of the staircase, looking to be 7 or 8 years old, his fluffy hair a telltale shade of fiery red. His enthusiasm faltered momentarily at the sight of Garrod, a stranger in his house, but in the next moment a veil of gentlemanly politeness had fallen over his face.

He was much more sedate in the way he descended the stairs. As Lechies and Garrod came to meet him, the boy offered the latter a bow, hand crossed over his chest, and the other at his back.

"Pleased to meet you, sir. I'm Caymus Delrio. Might I, uh, have the h-honor of your name?"

His voice squeaked just a little bit, eyes blown wide to take in Garrod's full height, standing so close. Lechies only laughed and went to his side, putting a fond hand on his head.

"Be at ease, Cay. This is my good friend, Mr. Garrod." To Garrod, she added, "My nephew. Allos and Juliote's son." Indeed, the shape of Caymus's face recalled the elegant slopes of Juliote's cheeks and nose. The hair was definitely his father's, however. "Mr. Garrod is staying with us today. We'll be departing the city together tomorrow."

"Already?" The boy visibly wilted, his refined manner already forgotten.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

The sound of her laugh caught cool in his ear. Like a cool southern breeze, come sweep across the shores of his mind. It made him smile all the more.

"It grows on you," he said, his voice lifted with a lanternlight warmth.

Her eyes caught his and held on to his gaze. "Wouldn't want to ruin our appetites too much," he agreed. "Tonight then," he nod.

With a casual grace, they unwound, his hand in hers, as she pressed a small peck against the bones of his hand. His lips pursed with surprise, and his brows bounced as he followed.

"Let's" he said with a nod. And found it all so, wonderfully warm.

Was this the sort of joy that they would have to look forward to, on those far away nights, set to some adventure, or trapped in some trouble?

A worry that came and went, as a moth to the flame.
---

What greeted them, or rather who greeted them, left Garrod without word. His eye wide with an alert caution as the boy gave an excited hello.

Looked strikingly like Lechies. Coppery strands ablaze beneath the afternoon sun.

The boy quieted. Looked almost scared. Garrod's right hand tightened and loosed. When he gave a proper greeting, Garrod could not help but smile.

"A polite young man," Garrod said with a slight bow once Lechies had given his nae. "A pleasure, Mr. Caymus," he felt his cheeks ache some at the pull of his smile, and he wasted no time in gathering those things they had spent their morning acquiring.

"Your aunt has a penchant for the road, young master," he said through an easy smile. Turned with bundles of kit and goods slung over shoulder and looped under arm. "An adventurer's heart, as well as a wizard's intellect," he winked at the boy. "Can't keep her from the trail for too long, " he looked over at the college wizard, his eye alight with the glow of admiration. "I'll see her returned safely home though," he looked back to the boy, and gave a small nod. "Quick as I can, Caymus,"

 

[Lechies Delrio]

'Young master.' The honorable address seemed to fill Cay with the sort of vigor one might usually draw from that first cup of coffee or tea in the early morning. His blue eyes brightened, face awash with pride, and Cay nearly gained an inch or so from how his back went straight once more.

Just like that, any reservations he might have had about Garrod were swept away like so much chaff in the wind. Still at that age where he could be so easily pleased by a few warm words, Lechies thought with amusement.

"You will, won't you? That's a gentleman's promise," Caymus said, half between awe and respect for this imposing giant of a man who could so easily pledge to keep his aunt safe. "A lot does seem to happen to Aunt Lechies-" Here he glanced in her direction and caught the way her face twisted into a restrained laugh. "It does! You tell us the stories yourself, Auntie!"

"I tell you some of them," Lechies replied. "For the others, I'm afraid you're still too young to hear about. But it seems you've been eavesdropping? Hmm?"

She leaned in close, eyes wide with expectation, but there was no threat in her smile. Cay giggled at his aunt's fake anger and shook his head. "Nuh-uh! It was Uncle who told me!"

"Ah, Detlef. Of course. Always the source of trouble, my brother," Lechies said to Garrod, her sigh theatrical. She looked back at Cay and winked. "Don't learn too much from your Uncle, alright, Cay?"

"Father tells me as much too, Auntie. Don't worry."

"Smart boy."

As she ruffled his hair, the echo of lightly metallic footsteps across the foyer announced the appearance of a clockwork golem. This one had foggy glass-orbs of orange, and they introduced themselves to Garrod as Apricot, welcoming the couple's return as warmly as an automaton servant with a modulated voicebox could.

Their arrival was timely, Apricot said, for dinner should be served as soon as they were settled in. Her father had asked the kitchens to prepare something special tonight, to celebrate and honor Garrod as a guest.

"Ah, Father shouldn't have," Lechies mumbled at that, embarrassed not just because of the impending spectacle of it all, but because of the delicious assortment of snacks they'd enjoyed in the city. She shared a secret, guilty smile with Garrod. "Thank you, Apricot. We'll be right along."

------​

'Special' was not an exaggeration. When Lechies and Garrod came to the dining hall, they would find a spread more suitable for a holiday gathering than an everyday dinner. Roasted fowl with crispy skin and moist, delicate flesh; a leg of ham glistening with honey; cuts of steak that parted easily under the knife and all but melted in the mouth. Even the seeming simplicity of the clear seafood soup hid a complex flavor that spoke of hours simmering on the stove, and the salad was so fresh its component vegetables must have been harvested from the gardens just that morning.

Lechies was taken aback by what lengths her father had apparently instructed the kitchens to take. Dear gods above, she hoped Garrod didn't think her family always ate like this. What kind of statement was it even supposed to make? 'This is the best we've always given our daughter, so you had better treat her right'?

She searched her Father's face for answers, but his face was a patrician's mask, sincerely cordial as Apricot passed a bottle into his hands.

"I've only recently tried this one from Pontelia, and rather like it. A sweeter wine, and best drank when still young. Aged just two years." He motioned in Garrod's direction, offering to pour into his glass. "Of course, we've also beers in the cellar if you'd rather that, instead."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

It was a warm thing to watch. The boy, Caymus, and Lechies, tit for tatting. Warm enough to crest a smile across his lips, and squint his eye with kindling joy.

"Would seem I'm the only fool who'd heed the healer," Garrod said as an aside. Whence Apricot approached, and announced the preparedness of dinner.

Garrod made a hum in his throat, and hid his grin as Lechies gave him a conspiratorial look. A look he rather liked, if one were to ever ask.

Still, Cay stood by as Apricot made away, and Garrod turned to the lad. Cleared his throat, remembering his gentleman's promise. "As to your adventureous Auntie, and her safe return," he said with a feint smile. "I will, Caymus," he said, solemn and true. Placed a hand over his heart and gave a bow. "You've my vow as a Yaegir," he rose, and smiled at the boy, once more, then they were away.

---

What greeted them was a right feast. The likes of which he would have been more likely hired to guard, than ever really partake. Much less, how had Apricot put it? Be celebrated and honored by it, as a guest.

He took in all the glisten, drip, steam, roast, char, and crisp. Licked his lips at it. "Well then," he said, mix of excitement, and nervousness playing in the two words he had uttered.

An uncomfortable grumble sounded from his stomach, and reminded him that he was already crammed for room. His brows pinched some, and his smile turned half frown.

Then, Aleks offered him a pour of a fine vintage. Not one to be rude, in this at least, Garrod took up his coup, and welcomed the pour, and relished the aromatic play of black berries and orange zest as the vibrant red poured into the glass.

"Did a bit of work out in Pontelia some years ago," he let on as the drink finished. Smiled as he gave the drink a little swish. "A dryad had cursed a vineyard of all things," he said with a half laugh.

Not quite thinking on if the story was... appropriate, given the company.

He nod. "Thank you kindly," he said, and took a swig of the drink. His brow did a little bounce. And he smiled wide. "Say now, that is good,"

 

[Lechies Delrio]

"Isn't it? Just let me know when you're ready for a refill."

Garrod's agreement brought a beaming smile to Aleks' face, the older man proud to have presented something that so pleased their guest. He gestured next in Lechies' direction, and not even her shock at tonight's extravagant display could prevent her from sampling the vintage. Her father did love his wines, and this was, after all, the one among many in his collection that he'd deemed worthy of offering to Garrod--his potential son-in-law--and...

Her cheeks went warm, and not from the wine, sweet and full of body though it was.

Fortunately, Lechies' family was altogether too occupied with their food and their guest both to pay much attention to her.

"A cursed vineyard in Pontelia?"

Interest colored Detlef's voice. He was working a knife down the side of the glistening ham, passing thick cuts of it around the table. Juliote was ladling more seafood soup for Therese, while beside her, Allos gently tried and failed to coax Caymus into taking a larger portion of vegetables. Seeming to give up on that endeavor, he caught Garrod's eye a few seats over.

"I might have heard a little bit about that one," Allos said. "Only in passing, mind. I hope that means the work wasn't too much trouble?"

"Aye, share the story with us, won't you?" Detlef spun the carving knife once, expertly, before laying it back onto the tray and accepting a bowl of soup from Juliote. "And we can judge whether you or my sister is the better yarn-spinner."

"Detlef," Therese chided without bite. Detlef only smiled that cat-like smile of his.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"Will do," Garrod gestured with a tilt of his head and a raise of the coupe in his hand.

It had not been lost on him that he held the delicate glass in his changed hand. Gloved and long sleeved as it was. Half of him expected to hear the whispers. The voice of his passenger. Who had been so silent so far.

It was an icy thought, amidst all of the warmth. A moment of dissonance, that had him bring the arm back. Kept it close, as his eye flit down to his plate, to the forks and knives, quick as a bird made to dive away.

But Detlef's clear curiosity pulled him out of the mire his mind had sunk into, green eye shift up to see the mischievous brother, doing his part. Garrod smiled at that, and the rest of the homeliness that surrounded him. A far cry from the days where he would watch Sinns carve into a haunch of boar, campfire glow painted orange across his old face, as the rest of the cold world was blue.

Certainly no roasted vegetables then. Save those they scavenged up. He smiled, and asked up the plate. Small nods of agreement, and wordless communication saw the pile handed over. The Yaegir scooped the roasted roots and sprouts onto his plate, the earthy sweetness that wafted from them had him feel all the hungrier again.

He laughed at Detlef's quip.

"Well, I don't know how much of a story teller I am," he started, bringing back his plate. "But sure, I'll spin the yarn," he looked down at the fixings. Felt a tinge of irony in his choice of food stuffs. Stabbed it with a fork all the same.

"Was tellings of missing people you see," he started, and chomped down on the mouthful, went on with the story whence he had passed it down. "Farmhands gone in the dead of night, folks acting strange during the day, digging holes for no good reason, said they were compelled to it, once we were able to snap them out of their daze,"

He looked about to see if he'd managed to hook them. "I was part of a party then, called ourselves The Roses," his expression grew wistful, though there was a fondness still in his eye. "Five of us, proper adventurers the bunch," he shared with a hint of pride. "Lenly, our healer, found a strange flower on the second day, like nothing she'd seen before,"

The tale would go on, how, in the dead of night, Lenly had acted mad. Drugged Kirov, and dragged him into a hole. Garrod and Poro had found her in the act of burrying Kirov alive. Till Poro snapped her out of it.

Elouise would deduce that it was the flower's pollen that was making them all act so strangely, but it would be days of culling the plant, before they were able to find the source of the flower.

The Dryad, Milifex.

"The Vineyard had harvested oak from her grove," Garrod explained. Had his coup of wine in his hand, his green eye looked through the empty vessel. "Said, if her children meant so little, why should any others be spared,"

Lechies Delrio

 

[Lechies Delrio]

From the moment Garrod opened with 'tellings of missing people', Lechies sat up a little straighter, worried that this adventure of his was going to take a tragic turn. As much as she didn't mind indulging her family's requests for retellings of her own travels, Lechies usually tried to avoid details of the nastier adventures, lest her parents redouble their attempts to have her change her vocation. Sometimes it couldn't be helped, when such experiences carved their consequences upon her very body, such as with that roadside brigand and the knife that had gone into her hand. And dear Caymus's young ears, of course, only got the tamest of his aunt's stories, except when Detlef apparently decided otherwise.

So it was with a stiff back and nervous heart that Lechies joined her family in the listening. To his credit, Garrod was a talent yarn-spinner, stirring mystery and suspense and danger into a delectable dish that held the Delrios' attention as firmly as the actual meal. He was good in the way that many adventurers became good yarn-spinners, their pride in their deeds fueling a desire to share them with others in the most entertaining way.

Mention of The Roses brought to mind a memory from last night--a glimpse of Garrod's bared torso, a dark rose blooming over the strong slope of his hip. Brief curiosity seeped through Lechies, but then Garrod went on to recount Lenly's almost-murder of their ally, and the moment passed.

Throughout the story's twists and turns, Juliote and Detlef were the most engrossed, leaned forward and nodding at all the right moments, their food forgotten and slowly going cold. Caymus's eyes, too, sparkled at the descriptions of mortal peril--perhaps Lechies had underestimated her nephew's bravery--while Allos and her father squirmed at times, adding anxious "Ah"s and "Oh dear"s between Garrod's sentences. Her mother remained a placid queen, of course, though she might have been gripping her spoon and fork unnecessarily hard.

Was it strange to feel an emotion so intense it near tingled under her skin, made her chest go tight with gratitude? Garrod and her family, gathered around the table, sharing a meal and a thrilling tale the way she had done so many times herself. Her most precious loved ones, basking in warmth and plenty. It was everything she had daydreamed about, made real.

In scanning his audience, Garrod's eye met Lechies'. She sent him a radiant smile that she hoped conveyed the sheer breadth and depth of her contentment.

"It's only understandable that she should be so full of wrath," Detlef said, finally digging into his steak. "But in the willful harming of innocents, she lost any sympathy I might've mustered."

Juliote made a noise of agreement around her sip of Pontelian vintage. "I don't suppose an attempt at dialogue first is very common among dryads? How did it end, then?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

All of this.

Attention. Their interest in him and the things he had to say. A story, yes. He had told those before. Seen the way they turn the ear, and catch a glimmer in the eyes. How they might stir a person. To act. To hide. To fight. Sinns had told him stories.

Bitter as medicine.

Had Garrod hang on every word, as he sought for some measure of sweetness.

He smiled a bit wider at Detlef. "Innocent to us," the hunter said easily, and made a small motion of ask toward Aleks. The old inventor nod in turn, and poured the cup with a careful measure and grace.

His hands so used to tinkering, steady as stone whilst they turned the bottle of young wine which glug glugged happily and aromatic. Was that where Lechies got her sure grasp? Her steady nature? Another nod passed between them.

"My thanks," Garrod said, warm. Looked to Lechies, if only to look at her. Some of the nerves of new company, wearing off. The glint of his silver ring, touched gold by the fire light. Slowly, he turned his eye back to the crowd, back "But the field hands took the axe to the trees," Garrod let on. "Took saw and planar to their wood," he looked down at the wine, and made swirl. "The lines of innocence oft get twisted, depending on the mouth that tells the tale,"

His eye found Juliote next, his demeanor calm and easy. "It ended with a conversation," he said brighter, and gave a small nod. "Millifex told us that the Vineyard had made barrels with her oaks, and she wanted them back." he set the coup down and cut into a bit of crispy bird leg. "What was left of them, at least. So that the woods could have them." he let the moment sit.

"With that, we returned to Baron LeNieux's estate," he looked to the matron. "Should the Master of the Vineyard return the barrels to her, Milifex would make known where the missing people were being kept, and depart into her woods," He sipped from his drink. Took a bite of his food. "Damn," his eye widened, and he gave a nervous laugh. "My compliments to the chef,"

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Juliote nodded at his answer. Some of the tension faded from her frame, and she listened on, satisfied with the knowledge that even a creature as supposedly wild as a dryad was willing to settle matters with peaceful words.

Caymus was only disappointed there were no tales of danger and battle in this part of the story, and it showed sorely on his young face. Allos sent a gentle 'tut' of disapproval in Cay's direction, but Detlef laughed and ruffled the boy's red hair. He met Garrod's eye with iron, yet unconvinced of Millifex's side of things. When it came down to brass tacks, Detlef would always favor the humans. Mortals, and their right to deal with the world as they saw fit.

"Generous of her," Detlef said without edge, for he did mean it. He speared a succulent slice of tomato, its flesh gleaming deep red under the lights of the chandelier. "How did the Baron respond to her terms?"

"I've exchanged a letter here and there with LeNieux. He is a fair man, mindful of his people's well-being, but also given to ruling with a loose fist, as it were," Therese said. "I cannot imagine he would have been thrilled to make any demands of the vineyard master, no matter what stakes were in play."

Therese passed her husband the plate of bread rolls and accepted the bottle of Pontelian in exchange. She motioned over her shoulder to a dining hall door behind her.

"Milene and Yoana, our cook and her assistant. Your compliments would be for them. They're likely still busy in the kitchens, but I'll ask Apricot to deliver your words of praise."

The automaton in question, waiting silently to the side of the room, received the order with a bow and a flash of magicked eye-glass.

"They make all our meals. Have been for as long as I can remember," Lechies added to Garrod. "Not clockwork employees, of course. As helpful as the golems are, they've no sense of taste, and no sense for what's tasty." She grinned. "But go on. How did that adventure end?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod's calm and friendly air remained as he watched the private crowd before him take in the tale so far.

A sheepish smile at the young master's disappointment, but he was glad to see his father had the good sense to dissuade such romantic ideas. While the adventurer's life had its share of thrill and excitement, hardship and tragedy were never too far behind.

But was that not the way of life itself?

It was Detlef's question that popped the hunter out of his warm melancholy. His eye shift to see the brother, until Lady Therese spoke her piece, and Garrod hummed a small sound from his throat, a bright interest. Connections were never bad to have, for an adventurer.

Not that he would ask his burden his mother in law-

His cheeks reddened, and he took a quick swig of his wine, as he heard Lechies speak on the kitchen staff. A smile on his face as he nod. Half-clumsy as he drank. Stopped, and set the coupe down.

"Right, the adventure," he said, breathy and buttery as he was feeling. "Lady Therese hit it on the mark," he said, as his mind painted the picture once more. "Baron LeNieux was not eager to relent, believed that his actions were right by the way of human law, and to give back the barrels would invite Milifex to continue her incursions" Garrod paused, lost in the memory of that day.

How angry he felt that the answer was so simple. Barrels, for the safe return of his people's lives.

Barrels to spare the Roses a fight against a foe most ancient and cunning.

"We made ready for the hunt that would come," he said, his voice laden with a heaviness. He sipped his wine once more, and took a moment to look upon Lechies. An easy smile across his lip. "Till the Lady Chanolet found us,"

Lady Chanolet was the eldest daughter of the Baron. Garrod was sure to explain. He told how on the night before they set out, the heiress of the LeNieux family shared with them her concerns. Told them of how she worried for those still lost in Milifex's scheme. How she wanted nothing more than to see them whole and well again, and how their battle would not guarantee their safe return.

A plan was proposed.

"We would hide Lady Chanolet, and make it seem as if Milifex had stolen her away, keep her hidden, and see if the Baron changed his mind," Garrod smiled at the memory. His plate near empty, save for the last few spoonfuls of soup. He spooned the last of it into his mouth. Passed it down, pleased. "So he did, the barrels returned, so too the villagers, and Lady Chanolet freed from her own ruse,"

It had taken the Roses a considerable bit of theater to pull off the act. Magic made to mimic the signs of the dryad's machinations. A window, shattered by a rampant growth of tangles and vines. Drag marks left across the earth.

And, more than a bit of luck, of course.

 

[Lechies Delrio]

The Delrio family waited, stiff with anticipation for the climax of Garrod's tale, for it did seem that the adventure would end in spilled blood, perhaps enough to count as a tragedy. Caymus in particular had all but forgotten his dinner, pressed forward against the edge of the table with attention so rapt his tutors would've seethed with envy to see it. Allos's eyes were wide, fretful with the thought of having to intervene if the story took too violent a turn, while Detlef had the grin of someone watching a favorite drama play out at the theater. A final battle to be loomed on the horizon, until...

Until the LeNieux daughter proved herself wiser than her father. The relief that rippled across the table was almost palpable. Juliote made a subtle gesture over her chest, a prayer of thanks for the noblelady's successful plot. Therese leaned back in her seat, satisfied with the tale's outcome. Aleks took her hand and squeezed it gently, sensing the apprehension behind his wife's queenly mask where none of her children had noticed.

"Praise be for a peaceful resolution. The Barony will be in good hands for another generation, it seems." He smiled, raising his glass in Garrod's direction. "'Twas a most exciting story. Thank you very much for the retelling."

"Yes, thank you," Allos echoed, and patted Caymus on the shoulder. "See now? There's more to being an adult than simply being strong. One must be smart, as well."

"And to be smart, one must eat his vegetables, no matter how much he doesn't like them," Juliote added, singsong, and swooped in with another helping of greens for her son.

"Aww..."

Caymus frowned at the pile of brussel sprouts on his plate. But he glanced again at Garrod as if mulling over these words, and, with a resolute nod, finally shoveled one into his mouth.

"Good lad," Aleks laughed.

Conversation waned for a few minutes as the family enjoyed their meal. Then, Detlef waved his glass in Lechies's direction.

"You went into the city today, yes? A romantic outing, just the two of you?"

Fortunately, Lechies had neither drink nor food in her mouth at that very moment. She dabbed her lips with her napkin and met her brother's sharp eyes with a steely smile.

"We went to Leviathan Square for supplies, actually, but yes, it was lovely. Did a round of snacks after the shopping was done, too--and honestly, Father, if I'd known you were planning this," she gestured helplessly, sheepishly, at the extravagance of their spread, "we would've skipped the snacks. It's all very delicious, but I'm fit to burst."

"Ah, how could I not spoil you?" Aleks replied, and he sounded a little pleased by her embarrassment. "You're so rarely home, my dear. Indulge in something besides your travel rations for once."

"I did indulge! That's what the snacks were for!"

"Did you bring any back?" came Caymus, hopeful. His plate was less four brussel sprouts now, and a fifth was dutifully speared on the end of his fork.

"We did, actually. Do you remember the bag I handed to Apricot before dinner?" At Cay's nod, Lechies continued. "Wheel cakes! And I promise, if you eat all your vegetables, you can have some for dessert."

"All of them..." The poor boy stared at the remainder of his vegetables like a soldier about to march to war. "Must I?" His forlorn gaze lifted. "Mr. Garrod, you're really strong, right? I thought men were supposed to eat meat..."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod felt his lips crook at their corner. A polite dip of the head to Master Alek's. "Happy to," he asured, and turned his green gaze unto Allos, his smile just a touch wider, as the father shared a bit of wisdom with his son. "Clever clever, might last for ever," he said the old cant Sinns would say, and added that same adventurer's wink to end its spell, just as Caymus readied to eat his greens.

His stomach in turns. Warm as dragonlfy currents. All swirl and tilt, and warm summer breeze.

Detlef's probe saw the adventurer's gaze shift. Go wide as his smile turned funny.

The feelings that swirled within him all too new, and familiar all at once. Like distant spans of sea, painted by the pink break of the setting sun. Gold that was set to dance across countless waves that reminded him of days long past, and days far ahead, all within a breath.

...It's all very delicious, but I'm fit to burst.

Garrod chuckled, small and to himself. A glance down at his plate revealed but juices left, mixed with dregs of creamy mash.

Yet his stomach went on. Wanting more.

Aleks dotted on his daughter, and Garrod's eye flit back to regard the inventor. A sip from his wine as he watched on. Happy to be a part of it all.

Till Caymus asked his question.

Near spat his wine back into its coupe. But, he kept it down, and swallowed it with a gulp. Cup fell from his mouth and he set it unto the table as he let out a warm breath.

"Meat," he said singularly as the coupe landed. "Is not so easy to come by, Caymus," he said sure. "It requires a kill," he said more soberly. "And to fight another creature for its life, well," he smiled, sharp and cold as the steel he wielded. "It comes at a risk," he forked down a brussel of his own from the shared plate. Waggled it some at the lad, as his smile warmed.

"Learn to source yourself some good plants out in the wild?" he munched down on the brussel. Only spoke once he'd gulped it down. "Well, man or woman, you're a lot less likely to go hungry, and you'll stay strong," he assured with a point of his empty fork.

It was the sort of thing Sinns used to tell him. Back when they were digging roots out of the forest floor, or trying to tell the difference between a chicken of the woods and a gold gill mushroom. One was harmless, the other, a regent for alchemists that would turn your insides out for days straight.