What do two dwarves (one going through sexual maturation and the other seemingly without a personality), a liberated human dairymaid, and an orc with a talking sword have in common? They’ve all, more or less, been Cursed by the monarchs of Faeryland. Can they break their Curses and retrieve what was lost? Are they in for valuable lessons about friendship and magic? Will they all get married in the end? Find out in this totally serious epic fantasy adventure!
Unique to this story: faeries can change their physical sex at will, so any characters that are faeries in this story (Trowa, Megumi, Quatre, Tomoe, and more) will present as whatever sex they feel like at any given time, and are all the same gender or lack thereof. There are also references to canonically male-presenting characters being pregnant (though it’s not mpreg as such) and canonically female-presenting characters impregnating others.
Unique to this story: cameos from various other fandoms and real life
Fate is Found in Faeryland
Chapter 1 – Heero Gets Tickled
With the continuance of his search, there came a certain sense of rightness. It did not equate to pleasure as it once might have, yet it remained a distinctly positive feeling. He did not search out of a need for this feeling, but it seemed an extra validation of a journey he would have pursued in any case. The list grew shorter and shorter, and with every item he recovered, the correctness increased.
As he moved along his way, his peg foot crunching decisively into the fallen leaves that had dried to a fragile red at their edges and a sickly pinkish-grey at their centers, he believed an impression was at last forming in his head. He paused, steadying himself against the dark pink bole of an oak-like tree, and closed his eye.
Immediately he felt the flutter of Trowa’s wings against his face, and guessed the faery had flown from his shoulder to watch him concentrate at a better angle. Finally his Guide wondered, “Anything?”
“Yes,” Heero replied. “It’s dry and cool. There’s a… tickling sensation. Irritating.” He looked again, and found Trowa hovering in front of him, as he’d suspected. He’d only ever seen Trowa present as sexless, without clothing except for jewelry; and the faery’s pure purple skin and darker hair of the same hue contrasted brightly with the pink forest surrounding them — though whether the combination would normally please the dwarven eye, Heero could not say. They had already traveled some distance together across Faeryland, but had not visited the purple realm, so Heero had become accustomed to Trowa appearing out of place. He added, thinking of distances, “It’s faint. It’s probably far away.”
“It sounds like sand,” remarked Trowa with a nod. “It could be anywhere under the right circumstances, but I think all the sandiest places in Faeryland are along the east side of the mountains, which are far away. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to Dorothy first? There may be an easier way.”
With a slightly huffing sigh, Trowa said, “If we continue traveling west, and cross the river and the plains, we’ll reach the Eintopf hills. By then you should have a clearer sense.”
Heero returned the nod, considering this course of action a logical one. “You continue to be a satisfactory Guide,” he said — the closest he could come to expressing what he thought were feelings of obligation and gratitude but could only catch a distant, fleeting awareness of. Trowa had counseled him to talk to Dorothy more than once, but always did him the courtesy of not pressing the issue. Heero appreciated receiving advice the giver believed to be logical, but also appreciated having his decisions respected.
Trowa gave a monosyllabic laugh, with what emotion Heero could not guess and did not try to. “Thank you,” le said. “You should rest.”
Heero said simply, “Travel will be less tiring when we strike the road.”
Though Trowa at first raised a minute eyebrow, eventually le just settled back onto Heero’s shoulder as the dwarf continued to stump through the forest in a southwesterly direction. After not too long, Heero could hear lir shifting, and then the sound of lir flute like birdsong close to his ear.
It made no real impression on him one way or another. In fact he only recognized it as music in that, unlike so many of the other noises heard on a journey through Faeryland, it indicated nothing he needed to take into consideration or even pay any attention at all.
Chapter 2 – Kaoru Can’t Kill Combative Creatures
Unable to catch herself as she stumbled, Kaoru actually fell on her butt in the questionable dirt of the inn-yard. Moments later, her walking stick shot out the door like a javelin straight toward her, and she barely deflected it in time to avoid a lump on her head; and not long after that, an upstairs window screeched open and, before she’d even finished directing her eyes toward it, her backpack came thudding down into the dirt nearby, followed more slowly and gracefully by her cloak fluttering through the evening air.
“I was just trying to stop them harassing that poor man!” she protested as the innkeeper began to retreat into his establishment. “I don’t see you kicking them out!”
“You weigh less,” he replied shortly.
She shouted at the closed door he left behind, “That’s because I’m human!” Then she climbed to her feet, brushed off her sore buttocks, and bent to retrieve her pack. Having cleared the dirt (or whatever it was) from that too, she slung it across her back and grabbed her cloak to throw over the top. Last she took up her staff and, after shaking a huffy fist at the inn, turned away.
Her plan had been to get a good night’s rest and some food in her belly, then cover the last few miles to Faeryland in the light of day; now she determined to finish the journey immediately and look for accommodations on the inside. Perhaps not the best idea, but she was frustrated.
Past the last straggling town buildings, over a little bridge and onto the straight road toward Faeryland, she thought she could see it — either that or the failing light playing tricks on her: a level darkness ahead like a great wall, stretching off in both directions as far as she could make out. She’d heard that a line of enormous trees formed the border of Faeryland on all sides, and it appeared now those rumors were true.
After a little rise, the road ran relatively flat for the remainder of the distance, and lights showed ahead. Kaoru peered and strained her eyes, but could at first distinguish little more than that they were lights; but after another half mile or so, she thought she could make out large lamps flickering on either side of a dark opening in the massive trees. Figures moved there, and Kaoru felt a shiver go all through her. She’d reached Faeryland at last; at last she could begin her search. But what kind of reception could she expect? And how much success?
Her attention was caught by something that seemed to stumble from a cluster of bushes at the side of the road and collapse on the cobbles. It appeared unusually pale in the growing darkness, and did not immediately rise from its fall. Kaoru, frowning in concern, hurried on toward it. Perhaps she was mistaken, and it was nothing more than a bedsheet off someone’s washline that had blown here, but she had to know for sure.
Then the living creature contracted and got to its feet, and as the human approached she could definitely make out a human-like shape. It began to stagger forward at an odd lurch, as if in pain. Kaoru found herself shuddering at the movement, for it didn’t look natural. If someone had chosen it as an artistic statement, she would have said it represented a difficult repression of the self-loathing that would otherwise prevent someone from doing something necessary they deplored. It might work pretty well, actually, but it still seemed weird.
Reluctant though she’d become to get any closer, she began to jog.
Then the thing looked up and saw her. The lurching stopped abruptly, or, rather, transformed instantaneously into a forward sprint so unexpected that Kaoru halted in confusion and sudden fear. She barely had time to get her walking stick into a defensive position before the creature was on her.
She didn’t fight well, never having trained and knowing nothing of it, but she’d found on her journey so far that her strength exceeded her expectations. Evidently hauling heavy cans of milk, churning butter, and helping with calving did something for a woman’s fitness in any case. She’d even held her own in that bar fight earlier — or would have, if her opponents hadn’t been trolls. But all they’d possessed was overwhelming size and a genetic propensity for irrational unprovoked harassment; this creature differed from them entirely.
In the heat of the moment, she couldn’t take in many more details than she’d been able to see all along: human-sized, human-shaped, very pale. But she could feel its claws when they raked her, smell its putrid breath as it attempted to tear her throat out. Her flailings with the staff made little difference, and when her enemy let out a horrible, animalistic screech of aggression, she nearly dropped the makeshift weapon. Was this what her quest of recovery would come to? Dying in terror within sight of the entrance into Faeryland without ever having set foot past the trees?
Some other sound rushed toward and around the two combatants, and suddenly a blast of wind seemingly from directly above knocked Kaoru right off her feet. She scrambled backward, losing hold of her walking stick, getting caught on her cloak, and soiling the seat of her skirt for the second time that night. And she felt the expression of shock and fear on her face intensify as she saw what had happened: a dragon had swept down from the sky and scattered the fight, landing directly between the prostrate Kaoru and her similarly discomfited opponent.
Starlight glittered and gleamed off horn and scales and half-spread wings, and off an enormous eye that turned toward Kaoru as the dragon shouted, “Get on!”
With no time to think about this, to consider whether she trusted what must be a faery in the animal form to which they were limited outside the borders of Faeryland, or to decide whether she really believed, as briefly crossed her mind, that a dragon made for a nobler death than the smelly whatever-it-was, Kaoru struggled to her feet and ran to obey. At the same time, the pale creature had also risen, and was attempting to attack the dragon with the same reckless aggression it had shown toward Kaoru. A large wing kept it off, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t find a way around eventually.
Though only slightly bigger than a farm-horse rather than building-sized as the human would have expected, the dragon at first presented no obvious place to sit, and certainly didn’t look comfortable. Kaoru made do, however, throwing a leg in a flutter of skirt over the spiny neck and leaning forward to cling with her arms as well. She only missed her walking stick once they’d taken off, but thought that not too great a price to pay for her life (if she was indeed saved).
How far they flew she had no idea; it was terrifying and uncomfortable no matter the distance. She hadn’t imagined her entry into Faeryland as quite so ignoble and awe-inspiring at the same time, and she just hoped she wasn’t screaming like a baby without realizing it. After a heart-stopping dive that stole the breath from her lungs even if she was, they thudded back to earth with a jolt so hard that Kaoru’s cheekbone bounced against the dragon’s spines and began bleeding. Eyes streaming with sudden tears and squinting against the stinging pain in her face, Kaoru could see basically nothing as she followed the dragon’s next instruction and dismounted, stumbling blindly forward. Tangled in skirt and cloak, she would have fallen for a third time if arms hadn’t caught and steadied her.
“Everyone!” called a voice very close by. “Please get out there and capture that Distorted!”
As the running steps and fluttering wings of what Kaoru believed must be ‘everyone’ passed them and abruptly changed to the sounds of animal paws and hooves and the more familiar flapping of bird wings, Kaoru caught a few comments and questions, the most common thought being, “How did it get past us?”
She straightened her clothing and adjusted her feet to wobble less, then brushed tears from her right eye so she could open it fully again, leaving the left closed. The cut on her cheek hurt almost more than the scratches the Distorted had given her (if she had that name right), but she could think about that after she’d figured out where she’d arrived and who had brought her.
The woman was the first faery Kaoru had ever seen in non-animal form, so she thought staring might not be as rude as usual. The abnormally steady flames of the lamps to either side of the entrance cast an orange glow over the area, but could not disguise the pinkness of the faery. From her dark pink pony-tail to her strawberry-colored eyes to her creamy pink skin to her translucently pink wings, she seemed to embody the very spirit of pinkness. Kaoru was reminded of her foster sister, who’d always dyed her hair that color and might be very happy to do her skin as well.
Even the amulet on its elaborate silver chain around the faery’s neck was pink, but, oddly enough, her clothing was purple. Kaoru wondered if that was really allowed. In any case, the woman looked ready for action in a close-fitting tunic cinched with black at the waist over tight black pants and tall boots, with a warmer purple cape to top it all off. The unfortunate effect of the garments conforming so well to her body was that her head appeared a trifle disproportionately large… though Kaoru wondered if that might not be simply a faery thing.
This had taken only a moment or three to observe, and before either she or her rescuer could say a word, Kaoru suddenly found herself swarmed by buzzing, darting shapes and demanding voices.
“Are you looking for a Guide, Visitor?”
“What’s your destination, human? I’ll get you there quicker than anyone else!”
“Excellent Guide rates here, Visitor! Better than any of these others!”
“If you’re looking to join a Quest, I can find you one!”
“What brings you into Faeryland? You’ll need a Guide to get it done!”
Ducking her head back slightly and raising her arms, the disconcerted Kaoru began batting at the flying things, trying to clear the air around her. But the pink woman caught her wrists and stilled her before confusion could turn to panic, and advised her briefly, “These are people.” Then to the flitting nuisances she cried, “Please give this woman some space! You can talk to her once she’s feeling better!” She turned back to Kaoru with a thoughtful expression and added, “It is ‘woman,’ isn’t it? And ‘her’ and ‘she?'”
Taken aback by the odd questions, Kaoru nodded dumbly.
“Good,” the faery smiled. “I’d hate to get it wrong.”
The flock retreated to a safe distance. Some of them, Kaoru observed in surprise, grew to full-size in an instant, allowing her to see they were indeed all faeries of different colors. They waved and smiled at her as she looked at them.
A distant call of “Sofia!” grabbed the attention of the stranger, who turned her reddish-pink eyes back out toward where she’d sent her people on a dangerous errand. Then she looked the other direction, toward a building standing not far off on the other side of a low stone wall that seemed, at least at first, to mark the path farther into the forest. “Please take this human inside and let her rest and clean up!” she ordered. Then she dashed away, transforming effortlessly back into a pink dragon at the very moment she stepped from between the great border trees.
Perhaps Kaoru had been wrong to consider Sofia the embodiment of her color, for the guard that came over to escort her inside the building, waving the other importunate faeries away far less politely than Sofia had, was every bit as pink. Kaoru watched his pale pink hair in its multiple braids bounce slightly as he walked ahead of her, and reflected that her foster sister would definitely be jealous.
The apparent guardhouse, though constructed of bright pink stone and with an unusual number of ornate flourishes, looked enough like a non-faery building that Kaoru’s racing heart began to calm as they walked inside. There, the guard showed her to a room where she could sit in peace, and promised to send some water in.
Her first action, once alone, was to seat herself on one of the plain pink chairs, push out a bit from the plain pink table, and bend over to put her head between her knees. Soon she could feel the trickle of blood on her face reversing its course, which added a tickling sensation to the stinging pain of the injury, but she stayed in that position until it had traversed her left eye and started soaking her brow. Her throbbing pulse had calmed, and she breathed evenly, so she finally sat up just as a faery entered the room with a basin of steaming water and a couple of towels. The basin, Kaoru noticed as she thanked the faery, was glazed white, but she wondered what color the ceramic might be underneath. The towels were grey. She feared she might be specifically noting the colors of things for a while here.
Alone again, she tested her equilibrium before standing fully, then stepped over to the table. With a corner of the first towel dipped in the hot water, she began dabbing at the cut on her cheek. It probably wasn’t as worrisome a wound as the scratches on her arms and chest, but the blood all over her face bothered and agitated her.
“May I help you with that?” came a voice from behind. Kaoru gasped, dropped the towel, and spun, all her hard work at getting her heart rate down suddenly for naught.
This full-size faery embodied a different color: soft green like new leaves in her skin, green so dark it seemed almost black in her braided crown of hair, laughing green eyes that looked almost human, and wings that reminded Kaoru of a dragonfly’s. She wore ranger-like clothing in a brown leather Kaoru believed came from ordinary, extra-Faeryland cows, but somehow appeared too beautiful and gentle for the role these garments implied. She smiled as she reached out a hand to further her offer of assistance.
“Who are you?” Kaoru wondered breathlessly. “How long have you been in here?”
“My name is Imugeme, and I’m a healer,” the faery replied. “Please, let me help you with your wounds.”
“That doesn’t answer how long you’ve been in here.” Kaoru really had no problem letting someone else tend to painful injuries she couldn’t see very well, but she felt suspicious of everyone in this new place, and a green faery most of all. She seated herself once again and looked up at the woman with one defiant eye.
Imugeme took the towel Kaoru had dropped and resumed the cleaning of blood off her face with small, purposeful movements. She chuckled as she did so — a rich, self-satisfied little laugh — and then spoke again. “You’ll have to forgive me for disobeying the guards and not keeping back with the other Guides. I thought I could help you better than any of them.” She laughed again; it was an almost musical sound. “And if that gives me a better chance of making a pact with you, so much the better.”
Kaoru noticed Imugeme still hadn’t truly answered the question, but decided to let it slide since at least her intentions had been clarified. “What is a Guide?” she asked, trying to give the term the audible capital she’d heard these faeries using.
“It’s very difficult and dangerous for Visitors to try to find their way around Faeryland alone. A Guide will lead you right and keep you out of trouble.”
“I have a map.”
“Maps of Faeryland,” the green faery said with another chuckle, “are notoriously unreliable. And there are always dangers of various kinds that don’t show on a map anyway.” She’d apparently finished with the blood, for she set the towel aside. Kaoru’s face felt cleaner, but the pain had only heightened, and she winced as the first of Imugeme’s fingers touched her cheek near the cut. The faery’s hand slid into full contact with her face, and Kaoru stilled, holding her breath, at the sensation of warmth and gentleness in it. Imugeme smoothed a thumb out across the spot, and the pain faded. Another sliding movement of her green hand, fingers lingering and trailing, made it obvious that the cut had disappeared entirely.
The human let the air out of her lungs all at once and gaped slightly, slowly opening her left eye to see with more complete vision the woman smiling down at her in satisfaction. She’d been unsure whether to trust this faery at first, whether to take her at her word about the difficulties of travel through Faeryland and the necessity of a Guide, but her uncertainty had been eradicated along with her wound.
“Now for these others,” Imugeme said. “The Distorted cause nasty injuries, so these will be a little trickier.” She seemed to relish the challenge.
“What do you charge for being someone’s Guide?” Kaoru wondered as Imugeme helped her out of her vest and shirt. Where the cloth had torn and grown sticky with blood, the removal was particularly painful.
“Your firstborn child,” Imugeme replied. Then she laughed heartily at the expression on Kaoru’s face. “That’s a joke, my dear! You can’t believe everything you hear about faeries!”
Kaoru weakly returned the laugh. “Well, then, what do you actually want?”
“Candied fruit. And that’s not a joke. But if you have none, I’ll take a silver piece a week.”
“You can’t believe everything you hear about faeries,” Imugeme repeated, and ran her hand over the scratches on Kaoru’s right arm.
“But a silver piece a week is…” The healing felt so nice, almost hypnotically so, that Kaoru ran out of words.
“That’s my price; take it or leave it. But I should add that having a pact with a Guide will translate the speech of everyone around you, so language won’t be a problem.”
Kaoru had planned to protest that a silver piece a week was a ridiculously low rate for what appeared to be a major service around here. Instead she protested, “I’ve understood everyone so far!” They had accents — even Imugeme — but these hadn’t obfuscated their words.
Imugeme moved on to the next injury, across Kaoru’s chest and right collarbone. The water had cooled a bit, but Kaoru didn’t mind. “Anyone stationed at the border tends to speak some outside language. But the further in you go, the less likely you are to encounter anyone you’ll understand.”
“You’re right, then; I would like a Guide. I’ll take your offer.”
Imugeme withdrew from her task and placed the towel back on the table. Reaching down, she drew one of Kaoru’s hands up to her lips and then her forehead, and Kaoru felt a little thrill go through her at the touch. “The pact is formed,” Imugeme stated. “I’m your Guide now.”
Kaoru smiled. “Thank you.”
The faery gently pressed her warm, soothing palm onto Kaoru’s chest. As she smoothed away this set of scratches, she said, “I can also offer you the Protection of the green faery monarch, if you want. It will provide some physical protection, and help you avoid this kind of thing.” She lifted two fingers to tap the spot she was healing.
“Does that cost extra?” Kaoru wondered, thinking a little anxiously of her budget despite the inexpensive nature of Imugeme’s pact.
“Not at all. I just happen to be able to offer it, and I think it would do you good.”
“Then I’ll take it.”
Imugeme smiled, then bent again, this time to kiss the startled Kaoru on the forehead. The thrill that went through her in this instance felt almost like the healing, but somehow deeper, and she squirmed as the sensation settled in.
“And now,” the faery said in a businesslike tone, “while I finish with these, why don’t you tell me what’s brought you to Faeryland?”
Chapter 3 – Duo Buys A Sex Toy
Emerging from the pink trees into a more open space, Duo stopped just behind the low wall that bordered for some distance the road he’d come upon. Setting his hands on its pink bricks, he looked around with eyes that grew wider and wider as they took in the details he had expected but hardly dared to hope for. Then, his bubbling joy requiring some outlet, he began to caper in place, stamping the fallen leaves and singing snatches of a song in his own language that came immediately to mind.
His dance attracted the attention of the idle Guides that haunted every entrance into Faeryland, and ley flew immediately over to investigate. Since Duo did not intend to move a single step from this spot until he’d made a pact, he welcomed leir approach with waving arms. “Yes, I need a Guide!” he shouted. “I absolutely need a Guide!”
Ley fluttered around him making leir pitches, but he mostly ignored leir words in favor of studying leir faces and figures. When he saw one he thought he recognized, he pointed a big dwarven finger at lir and said, “Quatre, isn’t it? You were one of the Guides for that Quest worried about their Cursed crops, right?”
“How word gets around!” Quatre seated lirself on the wall and went full-size. Le crossed lir legs and placed lir warm gold chin in one similarly colored hand. “You don’t usually need a Guide — Duo, I believe? What can I do for you?” Le presented as female at the moment, or at least had breasts, probably the better to fill out the flattering sleeveless green dress le wore, and this relieved Duo mightily; if Quatre had appeared male, with lir handsome face and short pale gold hair, even Duo’s general attraction primarily to other dwarves might not have saved him from an embarrassing scene. Of course he wore a protective device inside his trousers, but he would still have known (and suffered all the uncomfortable consequences).
“A pact,” was his answer to the faery’s question. “I’ll explain everything, but just make a pact a fast as you can.”
The other Guides, seeing Duo had chosen, flew off with discontented mutters. He caught one of lem remarking that he wasn’t even a proper Visitor, which he supposed to be true, but he didn’t really care what ley thought of him at this point.
Quatre, smiling, hopped down from the wall and reached for Duo’s hand. “All right,” le said equably. “As fast as I can it is.” And after making the usual gestures and sending the usual little tingle of magic through the dwarf, le added, “What’s going on?”
Duo sighed loudly in relief, and sat down unceremoniously in the greyish-pink scatter of leaves. “I’ve been lost in this forest for a month, and that’s after wandering the plains for even longer. If you can keep me from getting lost, I’ll really owe you one.”
“I was under the impression you knew Faeryland better than any non-faery there is.” Quatre joined him on the ground, seating lirself gracefully with crossed legs under lir long skirts and leaning against the wall.
“I do! But Relena Cursed me so I can’t find my way any-damn-where! I’m half starved and haven’t slept in a bed in weeks, and…” But he stopped short of enumerating all his current problems just yet.
“So le literally told you to ‘get lost,'” Quatre mused. “What did you do?”
Duo grumbled, “Killed too many Distorted for lir to ignore. You know how le is.”
“Well, I can get you to the pink enclave — for two silver pieces a week, of course — but I can’t enter. Won’t you get lost inside and wander out again without being able to find lir?”
“I’ll deal with that when I get there,” said Duo. “Up ’til now I haven’t even been able to get there. Or anywhere! You have to help me.”
“Or we could dissolve this pact and you could find a pink faery to be your Guide,” Quatre suggested.
“But I know you. You’re reliable. You did great work with that Quest, which was why word got around, and I trust you.”
Quatre bowed from lir seated position. “I hope you know I don’t take praise as payment,” le said with a smile, “but I do appreciate it. Where would you like to go first?”
Duo gave a grunt of frustration and broke into a rant. “I’ve been working in Faeryland for fifty years without ever having a problem like this! Fifty years! And I don’t think I’ve ever needed a Guide more than twice before!”
“Every Visitor gets Cursed eventually,” said Quatre consolingly.
“I’m not even a proper Visitor. I live here!” Duo sighed, dropped his head back to look up into the trees, and tugged at his braided beard. “Well, first, you can take me to a pleasure-house somewhere.”
Quatre blinked. “If you’ve been lost for months, can you even afford that right now?”
“No,” Duo admitted dejectedly. “I haven’t been able to visit a bank in all this time, because I couldn’t find one! And faeries aren’t really my thing anyway. But I haven’t had sex in longer than I can remember, and I’m getting pretty desperate!”
“You must be going through kil’ak’brük.” Quatre somewhat astonished Duo by pronouncing the name for dwarven sexual maturation correctly and in so sympathetic a tone. “I imagine that’s hard on a dwarf in Faeryland.”
“Yeah,” Duo agreed intensely.
“Well, I’ll do what I can for you.”
“Are you offering to fuck me yourself?”
Quatre laughed. “Postre is much closer than the pink enclave — I’d say about three days’ travel, for a dwarf. You can visit a bank and sleep in a bed… and, though I don’t know that there’s a pleasure-house in town, I do know ley have some specialty shops that might help you.”
“Yes.” Duo leaped to his feet. “Yes, that’s perfect. Let’s go!”
Turning small-size, Quatre echoed facetiously, “Let’s go!” and took up a position on Duo’s shoulder.
The prospect of solutions to some of his issues invigorated Duo, but so also did the new convenience of traveling rationally with a Guide. Quatre tugged on his ear or his hair whenever he attempted to walk the wrong direction, keeping him on the correct path for leir destination. Instead of going by at random, and sometimes again and again as he moved in zig-zags and spirals, the landscape passed with a reasonable progression, and whenever the road dipped, Duo could gleefully count on it coming up again to the same rise he’d seen before it began to descend. So greatly did this improve matters that he felt he’d never enjoyed a walk through any part of Faeryland this much.
He still had to request, during the few hours of rest he took each night, that Quatre give him some privacy so he could try to find sexual release as best he could on his own… but what he really needed was a dick up his ass, or his own in someone else’s, so he rather wondered why he bothered. Happy he was to see the large town of Postre before him at the end of a long, downward-sloping stretch of road on the evening of the third day.
He’d been here before, of course, but had never considered its amenities along current lines. He knew it boasted a spacious inn with plenty of full-size rooms, and before he could allow his enthusiasm (with Quatre’s help) to lead him into the market, he secured a place there for the next few days. Then he stood solidly where he was, not daring to take a step, so as not to get lost while Quatre went out to inquire after the type of shop he wanted. Finally, looking forward most heartily to a bed and some hot meals, if not something even better tonight, he ventured forth with his Guide in search of what he so desperately needed.
If faeries were anything as an aggregate, it was very open and accepting on sexual matters. The shop, called, curiously enough, ‘Have Some of Dis Pie,’ occupied a place of prominence between a full-size milliner’s and a stack of domestic goods stores for small-size homes. And while plenty of colors decorated many of the other buildings in the area (though the wood and stone was usually local), Have Some of Dis Pie had embraced the pink pinkness of the pink faery realm. From the fluffy pink curtains to the pink silk on which certain pink items showed to advantage in the widows to the pink confetti periodically exploding over them and falling in pink swirls, what to expect inside was immediately clear.
Duo attempted to make a sharp left turn at the door and walk laterally down the line of shops, but Quatre set him right, and he managed to enter. A pink bell rang as he stepped inside, but the proprietor happened to be in the main room at the time and didn’t need its pink-sounding tinkle to alert lir of his presence. Le came bouncing up to him, full-size.
“Welcome to Have Some of Dis Pie! What can I help you find today? Actually I can help you find anything we have here, because I own the shop! Are you looking for some coochie-coochie-coo? A cherrychanga with whipped cream? A charming cha-cha? It’s almost winter — do you need a muff? A purse for your treasure? A hot box for your meat? Do you want to go beaver-hunting? You’re hairy enough to be a bear; would you enjoy a honey pot? Or if you’re just the opposite, we’ve got some nice bear-traps here! Or–”
Duo, grinning in spite of himself and the arousal he already experienced just looking at some of the items for sale, raised his hands and attempted to break in. “I actually need–”
“A nice noodle? Some sexy sausage? A tra-la-la ding-ding-dong? Are you in the mood for a prize fight? Gathering firewood? Picking cucumber? Do you need a soldier who can stand at– wait!!”
The products le showed him in quick succession had done nothing convenient for his own example of all these terms, but now abruptly le stopped, eyes wide. “You’re a dwarf!!”
“Um, yes,” Duo said.
Every part of lir, from lir giant fluffy pink curls to lir ample breasts to lir chubby belly, bounced at differing speeds as le vibrated with excitement. “Wait here!” And, giggling, le ran off into the back room. Le didn’t seem to use lir wings much, just hopped and skipped and jumped. In lir absence, Duo looked around for Quatre and, finding lir, gave an incredulous look. Quatre only replied with a shrug.
The shopkeeper returned carrying a pink box. Essentially shoving it right into Duo’s face, le opened the lid. “I think this is perfectly perfect for you! I got it from a merchant who came through town a couple of weeks ago, and le was selling cheap because le knew there wouldn’t be a lot of interest, and I said, ‘I’ll take it! I think it’s perfectly perfect!’ So I gave it a nice bubble bath, because you never know where it’s been, or where the merchant’s been, and you always want…”
Lir chatter continued, but faded into obscurity in Duo’s ears as his eyes ran greedily over the velvet-cushioned dildo inside the box. The shape of a dwarf penis could not be mistaken for anything else, and this was as finely crafted as anything he’d ever seen: accurate in form and color and apparent texture, and with a sturdy handle of hard golden wood for ease of use. He longed to touch it, but figured that would be inappropriate until he actually owned the thing.
“…curves upward when it gets erect! Not too far, but a little — like a lithefruit! It doesn’t ejaculate anything, because it doesn’t come with testicles, but it does go soft after a while — I found that out while I was washing it!” Le giggled.
“There can’t be…” Duo had to pause to clear his throat. “There can’t be much demand for a replica dwarf penis in these parts.”
“It’s a niche item,” le admitted. “Get it? Niche item?”
“I’ll take it.” He still sounded a bit hoarse.
“Okie-dokie-lokie! Twelve silver pieces! Do you want to add some lubricant? I’ll throw it in for 25 copper!”
One gold piece, worth fifteen silver, was all the money Duo had left. But since he’d already paid for his room at the inn (for this very reason), he didn’t hesitate to pull it out. The combination of that very room, a dwarf in kil’ak’brük, and this marvelous magical toy promised bliss for the next few nights at the very least.
Chapter 4 – Sano Argues With His Sword
The novelty of everything’s being pink had not yet faded, and still particularly satisfied Sano whenever he found an especially large pile of fallen leaves to jump in. He loved the crunching sound and the cushioning feel to them; he loved their sharp, autumnal smell. Faeryland wasn’t really all that bad so far. He’d already had one fairly interesting fight, and the landscape, so different from that of home, entertained him.
That didn’t mean his mood was one of unalloyed pleasure. His reason for coming into Faeryland gave him continual regret, though he tried not to think about it and certainly never brought it up aloud; and he kept experiencing a sort of itching on the back of his head that he would have thought, by now, should have gone away.
“I still feel like someone’s following us,” he declared, spinning around, walking backwards for a moment, then bending for a rock he could throw into the forest the way he’d come.
“You made yourself enough of a nuisance in that last town,” said the sword at his side, “that I wouldn’t be surprised if someone were coming after you for revenge.”
Sano turned his lanky form again to face southwest. “I’m serious! I really think someone’s following us! And you know I didn’t raise enough ruckus for it to be just some farmer or whatever.”
“‘Just some farmer’ wouldn’t follow us into Faeryland in any case. Do you really think anyone would? Nobody comes here except on business.”
Annoyed at the condescending tone, the orc deliberately knocked the sheathed weapon against the next tree. “Yeah, so maybe someone’s business is following us!”
“You really think you’re that important?”
“Just a second ago you said you wouldn’t be surprised if someone wanted revenge for whatever you think I did in Deserville or whatever it was called.”
“Even a villager’s well merited annoyance at you wouldn’t be enough to bring them past the border of Faeryland. They’re probably just outside waiting for you to come out again, and then they’ll mob you.”
Sano couldn’t help grinning. “That sounds like fun. Brawling with humans is like…” He cast about for an appropriate simile, and was lucky enough to find one physically present. “Like jumping in leaves! Crunch, crunch, crunch!” He demonstrated, flailing into the pile and scattering it with wild kicks of his booted feet.
The sword began some comment Sano didn’t catch over the noise of his play, but when eventually the orc settled down and moved toward where his Guide hovered patiently not far ahead, the remark started again. “If you’re really worried about someone following us, you’re a fool to leave such an obvious trail for them to track.”
“I’m more worried about getting you to believe there’s someone following us!” Sano broke into an impatient jog.
“In that case, you’re definitely a fool. What good would that do you?”
“Um, getting you to admit you’re wrong?” Sano said this in a tone proclaiming it to be the most obvious thing in the world.
The sword made a scoffing sound. “Your ambitions are so lofty. And what exactly do you want me to admit?”
Sano grunted in frustration. “Haven’t we been talking about this for days or some shit? I want you to admit you’re wrong about someone following us!”
“But have I ever said specifically that I don’t believe there’s someone following us?”
Abruptly Sano drew the sword and held it before his face as if looking for some visual clue as to the exact meaning of that question. But of course all he saw, in the finely polished steel that accepted no stain, was his own scowling tusked face. “You’re trying to weasel out of this!” he accused. “When it turns out someone’s been following us all along and they attack and kick my ass and I’m laying there dying, you’re going to say, ‘Well, I never actually said I didn’t believe you, so I wasn’t wrong about anything’ just because you didn’t say the exact words even though you’ve been arguing against the idea this whole time!”
“You think you’ll die, do you?” the sword, voice louder out in the open like this, asked easily.
“Don’t change the subject! You’re doing that politician thing again — messing around with words so you can deny everything later!”
The sword gave a brief laugh. “I’m surprised you even recognized it.”
“You are such an asshole.” Sano thrust the sword back into its sheath and quickened his pace.
“If it’s any comfort to you, when you do get your ass kicked and are lying there dying, I’ll send you off by admitting I was wrong about something.”
Surprisingly, this did comfort Sano a little. “Really?”
“If you admit at the same time that you’re a fool.”
Sano grunted again. “I might be a fool, but there’s still someone following us.”
“Why would someone follow us all the way into Faeryland?”
“Well, maybe someone was following us outside Faeryland, and now someone different’s following us inside Faeryland.”
“That seems extremely unlikely.”
“My people have a connection with trees,” Sano insisted. “Why do you think we’re green? I know when someone’s following me through a forest!”
“More like a connection with hops. ‘Your people’ are the street urchins of Drury Crossing, who come from all different races and backgrounds, none of which is a forest. Besides, you’ve already mentioned multiple times that the trees here are pink.”
At being so successfully countered, Sano practically roared with irritation. “Tomoe will back me up!” he cried. “Tomoe! Aren’t we being followed?!” And he sprinted forward to catch up with his Guide and settle the matter.
Chapter 5 – Tomoe Already Can’t Even With This
Tomoe resisted the urge to massage lir temples, sigh loudly, break the pact and fly away, or any of the other relieving things le was tempted to do. Le only said, in response to Sano’s question, “There are certainly other Visitors in the area. Whether any of lem — them — are following you, I can’t say.”
“See?” said Sano.
“You see?” said his sword at the same moment. Evidently each had taken the unhelpful statement as confirmation of his point of view.
“No, you see!” the orc insisted. “There are other Visitors in the area! Even she–” (echoing Tomoe’s error) “–le can’t be sure if someone’s following us!”
“Exactly. Le can’t be sure.” The sword never had a problem with the local pronouns. “You’d think a faery would be more certain, wouldn’t you?” This was not really true, but Tomoe didn’t bother to set him right.
“The point is, it’s absolutely possible.”
“I never said it wasn’t possible, just that it’s unlikely.”
“So? Unlikely shit happens all the time! You just don’t want to admit it because it’s my idea.”
“Do you think you’ve given me much reason to have faith in your ideas?”
“Well, can you prove there’s nobody following us?”
“That’s a remarkably foolish question, even for you.”
Even from a position far enough ahead to keep them on track and stay beyond the fast-moving orc, Tomoe could still hear them clearly. They’d done this every waking moment le’d known them, and showed no signs of stopping any time soon; but le hadn’t learned to tune them out yet.
Relatively new to Guidework, Tomoe couldn’t be quite sure how the rules applied in this situation. That they weren’t magically binding, for the most part, left lir to lir own devices how to interpret them, and le felt consistently anxious about it. The sword gave every sign of being a person, and Sano conversed with it as if it were; but he’d been remarkably unforthcoming about his reason for entering Faeryland, so Tomoe could only assume. Lir assumption was, of course, that some friend of his (for a flexible definition of the term ‘friend’) had been Cursed, and Sano had for some reason taken it upon himself to rectify the situation.
That seemed perfectly normal, and why Sano didn’t just admit to it, Tomoe had no idea. More pertinently, a Guide was supposed to refrain from talking to lir Visitor in the presence of others, and Tomoe had made a pact with Sano, not with the sword. Did a person that was technically an object count as someone le shouldn’t be talking in front of? Should le have made a dual pact? A sword had no hands, so le didn’t know if le could have… but the verbal agreement could have been altered to include the sword if Sano had explained his circumstances better. And as things stood, was Tomoe breaking the rules every time le spoke to them both? Le hadn’t been able to decide.
Lir preoccupation didn’t help. Le’d been over this many times in lir head, but never conclusively. With 189 days remaining to lir other source of worry, le didn’t much anticipate a useful answer to lir musings on the subject of Guide rules.
Drawing a deep breath, Tomoe returned to an easier speaking distance from the orc.
“Are we going the right direction for the black faery place?”
Before Tomoe could even decide how to word lir answer, the sword broke in. “You’ve asked lir that a hundred times already, fool. You’re like a child on a long trip wondering ‘Are we there yet?’ every half hour.”
“What do you know about kids on long trips?” Sano demanded, distracted from his question.
“Yes, we’re going the right direction,” said Tomoe, and flew back to lir previous spot as the bickering continued.
Le didn’t know how le was going to put up with this for as long as the journey must take. And who knew what Sano would need to do after talking to the black faery monarch? Le was in for months of this at the very least. Only the thought of lir triple pay — for the naive orc had accepted lir unusually high rate without shopping around at all — determined lir on proceeding.
After some thought, though reluctant to do so, le allowed Sano to catch lir up. The orc had started running, as he sometimes did in his evident impatience to get where they were going, and his long legs covered the ground strikingly quickly; he ran nearly as fast as le could fly. Now le kept pace with him, waiting for a chance to break into the conversation with lir latest suggestion.
Finally one appeared, and le said quickly, “I believe a Quest might help you, since there are other Visitors in the area.”
“Aren’t I already on a quest?”
“Le explained this at the entrance,” said the sword with a sigh.
Le explained again. “A Quest is a group of Visitors who travel together and help each other with their goals.”
Sano pondered this for half a second. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound too bad. It’d be nice to have some allies in here, especially since somebody’s obviously following us.”
More importantly, it would prevent Sano — assuming he remembered the rules — from harassing Tomoe every few minutes with stupid questions. Given his reticence on the topic of his own goals, it might even cut down on his endless fruitless debates with the sword. “We’re going the right direction for that too,” le informed him. “Keep moving.” And le resumed lir place some yards ahead, looking very much forward to the moment they could unite with other Visitors and shut lirs up a bit.
Chapter 6 – Duo And Sano Greet Each Other Like Bros
Duo’s new acquisition was nothing short of a miracle of specialized magic design. Since starting kil’ak’brük three years before, he’d never had a lasting relationship, only random encounters and short-term dalliances; so it was entirely possible that these had been the best three nights he’d ever spent at an inn.
His lack of funds, however, had cut the party short. The bank in town had turned out not to be the one he used, and the process of a transfer from a branch of his own elsewhere had already outlasted the number of days he’d prepaid for. So now he sat on a barrel in the inn yard thinking longingly of his toy, with nothing much else to do since he’d already checked the status of his transfer today and been disappointed.
Pink faery after pink faery after pink faery walked or flew past him, full-size and small-size, in all variations of sexual presentation and an even greater variety of attire. As people-watching went, it could have been worse, but even so it grew monotonous after a while. So when a green orc, appearing elongated in his tall, lanky muscularity, passed by apparently talking to himself, Duo sat up and took notice.
Even this far into Postre, the orc had not ceased to look around in wonder, and the expression on his pleasant tusked face was one of gormless interest. He wore leathers rather than proper armor, and a sword that might have been a child’s plaything on his big frame. Apart from ragged brown hair sticking out in every direction (which might have been a fashion statement rather than negligence), he appeared competent enough.
He was ranting with no evident audience, however. Talking so openly to his Guide wasn’t manners, but what had Duo been doing the last fifty years if not helping people fit into Faeryland better? Yes, this fellow might be a useful asset to a Quest.
So busy gawking he either didn’t note or didn’t recognize the potential of the dwarf’s presence, the orc walked right past Duo and disappeared around a corner of the inn. Duo immediately jumped up and looked around for Quatre. This could be a problem; his Guide was nowhere to be seen, and he couldn’t go far in the right direction without lir. He soon found he had no need to worry, though.
“Did you just see a dwarf back there?” came what must be the stranger’s voice from where he’d apparently halted just beyond the corner.
“I have no eyes,” was the rather odd reply. Surely that was never a faery’s voice!
“Yeah, you’ve got no mouth either, but you don’t have a hard time talking shit about–”
“Don’t pull out a weapon on a public street again, you fool! You remember what happened last time?”
“No, he’s gonna love this! I know the exact right dwarf thing.” And the sound of his suddenly pounding feet was the last warning Duo had. As he rounded the corner with his sword raised, he let out a roaring approximation, not half bad, of a Mur’kaltulk warlord’s vik’talzis or semi-formal battle greeting. Granted, Duo had only heard a vik’talzis two or three times in his life, but he thought the orc did a pretty good imitation. And it was quite decent of him, really, to take the trouble of approaching a stranger like this.
Duo met the attack with a ready axe, glad to have something to do and an opportunity to meet a fellow non-faery and potential Quest-sharer. Beyond that, the orc’s skill showed from the very beginning, and Duo enjoyed the feeling of steel against steel. He thought the crowd that grew around them was drawn not so much by the talents of the combatants, though, as by amusement at a couple of Visitors having it out next to the inn like the savages they were.
“I’m pleased to meet you!” Duo cried through the ringing and screeching of metal that filled the air. It proved tricky to block the thrusts of a small straight blade with the big rounded edges of a battle-axe, so that was fun.
“Yeah, you too!” replied the orc with a grin. Then, addressing nobody Duo could see, he added, “See, I told you he’d love it!”
Duo did rather love it. He’d been so bored. And presently, when another of his sweeps had been twisted aside by his opponent, he wondered affably, “Isn’t that a human-sized sword you’re using? And some kind of human style?”
To his surprise, it seemed to be the sword itself, rather than its wielder, that answered him with, “Good eye.”
Prodding the situation further, Duo went on, “I hope your dick isn’t as small as your sword!”
A ripple of laughter moved through the crowd, but the orc appeared annoyed. “Why do other warriors always gotta talk about penises all the time!”
Startled, since he’d never met a warrior physically equipped as he was that didn’t enjoy a good dick joke, Duo explained, “Just trying to bond with you, man.”
“All right,” replied the orc, looking wary around the blade of his sword currently locked against the dwarf’s axe. After they’d managed to repel each other without injury, he added, “Well, I hope I can say you’ve got a damn cool axe without you thinking it’s some kind of gross comparison.”
What a strange man! Just to tease him Duo said, “It is a long shaft with two roundish bits at the end.” More laughter from the faeries around them.
The orc gave a growl of frustration and charged again. The sword remarked, “This is a stupid fight. You’re both likely to get arrested or something.”
Duo commented, “Your sword’s not much fun, is he?” And he spun into a centrifugal attack he hoped would knock the weapon from the other’s green hands.
But just then they were interrupted.
Chapter 7 – Kaoru Has No Sense Of Self-Preservation
The quickening of blood, the wind of swift movement, the clash and screech of steel, the wonderful sharing of skill and technique, the dwarf’s grin, the feeling of having found a friend in this alien place — it seemed as if a bucket of freezing water had been dashed over all these things when all of a sudden there was just this frail little human woman throwing herself between the combatants with arms outspread and shouting for them to stop.
The sword’s descent halted awkwardly half an inch from driving through her shoulder. If Sano had been berserk, he couldn’t have done it in time. Maybe there was something to be said for all that restraint bullshit after all. If so, this woman could use some!
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Sano demanded. At the very same moment, the dwarf, thrown off-balance in his attempt not to chop her in half horizontally, wondered, “Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”
“What do you two think you’re doing?” she said in return, looking back and forth defiantly between them. “As if it isn’t hard enough to travel through Faeryland! Visitors should be allies, not enemies!”
“Calm down, ma’am,” the dwarf advised, raising burly arms to replace his axe in its straps. When the human shot him a look from which sparks seemed to fly, he took a step back with a half-sheepish grin.
“Yeah, take it easy,” Sano said. “We were just having a traditional dwarven greeting!”
“Wellll, technically,” said the dwarf somewhat regretfully, “it’s only Mur’kaltulk dwarves who use the vik’talzis. I’m Ghabak’nik myself.”
Chagrined, Sano made a great business of sheathing the sword, unsure what to say.
Appearing to take notice of this, the dwarf hastened to assure him, “Not that it wasn’t shaping up into one hell of a fight! We’ll have to try again sometime! Maybe with less of an audience.” For, though the faeries that had gathered around them were beginning to disperse, some evidently believed the show hadn’t yet ended and still stood at leir ease, listening and laughing.
And the human was giving the dwarf that look again — not merely reproving, but almost condemnatory. The dwarf hurried on. “But I agree with the lady! We might make excellent companions! What do you say we all head inside–” he gestured toward the inn– “and talk about it?”
The woman seemed to relent. “That’s a good idea.”
“You gonna buy me a drink?” Sano grinned. “Because you were about to lose?”
“My good man, I think you would have found you were about to lose,” the dwarf replied, moving forward and clapping Sano on the (lower) back. “Besides, I have no money.”
The dwarf, presumably by right of earlier residence, moved to lead the way; but as he rounded the corner and approached the front entrance, having pushed past a faery or two to do so, he suddenly veered off to the right away from the door.
Sano ran after him and clapped a green hand on a mail-clad shoulder. “Where you going, dwarf?”
The latter glanced around, and puffed out his lips in irritation, making his brown mustache ripple and a sound like a horse. “Nowhere,” he said. “Just… keep your hand right there until we get inside, will you?”
Sano complied with this unusual request, and it won them an odd look from the human woman where she waited beside the door, but they all made it into the common room and sat down without further incident.
Like much of what he’d seen in Faeryland so far, the furniture had a lot of unnecessary scrolls and flourishes and leaf-shaped little extra bits and shit. But the room itself interested him. The ceiling was low — or maybe average, for faeries — and made of a sort of latticework that in places revealed the second, smaller dining and drinking area above for when ley went all small the way ley did. Servers from time to time left the bar or the kitchen, shrank down as they flew upward, and darted out of sight. He wondered if Tomoe had settled at a table up there.
“Geez, you two, you don’t have to pop your eyes out,” the dwarf grumbled, and Sano lowered his gaze to find the human woman doing the same. She must never have been inside a faery inn either.
“Well, Duo–” the voice from the center of their table made them both jump– “got some more money at last?”
“Not a single piece!” the dwarf replied cheerfully to the small-size faery that had landed before him. “But my new friends here are going to buy me a drink!”
The faery turned lir entire sexless pink body, naked but for an apron, toward Sano and the human. “And what will you be treating our good dwarf to, my Visitors?”
“Uh, what do you have?”
Duo grinned wryly and broke in before the bartender or innkeeper or whatever le was could answer. “I’ll have the same as before. And just beer for these two, for now. They’ll have plenty of time to get to know your better stuff later!”
Sano’s heart warmed at the word ‘beer’ as well as at the prospect of ‘better stuff,’ and he didn’t even mind pulling out his money pouch and paying the tab for all three of them.
When the faery had left them, the dwarf sat back comfortably in his chair. “So I’m Duo, you probably noticed. Duo Axewielder, at your service.”
“Axewielder?” the human wondered. “Isn’t that a little…”
“On the nose? Yeah, it’s about the most common dwarf family name there is. You humans have your Smiths, and we dwarves have our Axewielders.”
Sano raised a hand. “I’ve got one of those too! Sano Sabertusk here. You ever visit Drury Crossing, you’ll think I’m related to half the orcs there.”
“Well, mine is Kamiya,” said the woman with some satisfaction. “Kaoru Kamiya.”
“Who has a death wish,” Duo appended.
Kaoru made a huffing sound. “If people are going to fight, it should be for a good reason!”
Sano thought he heard agreement from somewhere around his hip, but it was mostly drowned out by his own and Duo’s laughter.
“And what’s your sword’s name, Sano?” the dwarf wondered next.
“He’ll speak up if he decides he wants to talk to you,” Sano grumbled.
There was a moment of expectant silence. Kaoru looked curious.
When no introduction was forthcoming, Duo went on. “And what are your goals in Faeryland?”
Sano’s mumble, in which only the word ‘Curse’ might have been heard, was overridden by Kaoru’s more forthright explanation. “A green faery stole something from me, and I need to get it back.”
Duo looked impressed. “So you’re not Cursed? If you came into Faeryland just to get some stolen item back, you really must have a death wish! Or was it valuable?”
Appearing somewhat embarrassed, Kaoru said, “It was valuable to me.”
Poking his lips out thoughtfully and tugging on his beard, Duo mused, “Sentimental value…” He looked Kaoru up and down assessingly, and Sano believed he was sizing her, and the situation, up in a professional sense. But then his expression changed, and he made a frustrated sound. “I’m still thinking about all this like a bodyguard.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard!” Sano protested, feeling a little betrayed.
“No, what you need is a brainguard.”
Kaoru definitely heard this statement. Observing that neither of her companions were startled as she was, she bent down with a suspicious expression to peek under the table. Her mouth had opened to inquire before she’d sat up entirely, but just then the faery from before returned, full-size, with their drinks on a tray.
Sano poked at the foam on his and licked it off his finger. It smelled like beer, and the preliminary taste seemed fine, but something about it… A long gulp satisfied him that, though there was an unexpected spiciness and kick to it, the qualities he looked for on the inside of a tumbler were all present. He shook his head with a pleased grunt.
“See,” Duo was saying as Sano went through this process and Kaoru eyed hers uncertainly, “I’ve made my living for the last fifty years as a bodyguard to Quests, helping them with their Curses. Fifty years! And I never got Cursed once. But now all of a sudden here I am the one who’s Cursed and needs help with it. You wouldn’t believe how frustrating that is!” And he took a swig of whatever was in his cup — something frothy and pink — and frowned as only a dwarf could. He brightened the next moment, however, in asking Sano, “So what’s your Curse?”
Sano felt a slight blush on his face, lifted his tumbler again in an attempt at covering it, and mumbled, “I don’t want to talk about it,” his eyes flicking away from his companions.
“We’re talking about forming a Quest, aren’t we?” Kaoru wondered. “To help each other out? I don’t think we can help each other if we don’t know what we’re helping with.”
“Or do you need someone to dig it out of your green hide with an axe?”
“Don’t people get Cursed all the time?” Kaoru tentatively lifted her tumbler. “I don’t think it’s anything to be embarrassed about.”
“That’s right,” said Duo encouragingly. “You’re no stupider than the rest of us!”
“That’s debatable. Sano, I’ll tell them. Put me on the table.” At this command, which had startled Kaoru again, Sano looked down. Reluctantly, he mended his posture a bit — these carved-up pink chairs weren’t designed for long orc bodies — drew the sword, and laid it in front of him. He thought it might be best to concentrate entirely on his beer for a little while.
“My name is Saitou,” said Saitou. Sano noticed he didn’t give his family name, which happened to be Smith. “I was human until this fool got me Cursed by harassing the black griffon who lives just outside Drury Crossing.”
Sano swallowed his latest gulp and, still staring into his tumbler, muttered, “You were yelling just as loud as I was.” He knew Saitou would be expecting this protest, so he made it; it seemed more natural than falling apart in a mess of guilt, anyway.
“At least I didn’t try to pluck lir feathers,” Saitou said dryly.
“I was drunk.” Sano sank back down in his chair, trying to find a convenient place beneath the table for his outstretched legs.
“That’s your excuse for everything, and it’ll be your excuse for dying when that day comes.”
Duo was guffawing, and when Sano glanced up he found even Kaoru smiling, seemingly against her will. Once he’d calmed down, though, the dwarf remarked, “So you two need to talk to the black faery monarch to find out how to break this Curse.”
“Yeah,” said Sano grumpily. At the same moment Saitou said, “So it would seem.”
“And are you hoping–” turning to Kaoru– “to go to the green enclave and talk to the monarch there?”
Kaoru had been sipping at her beer. “This is good,” she remarked. It cheered Sano a bit to hear her say so; he’d rather believed, just looking at her and knowing her distaste for pointless fighting (one of his other favorite activities), that she might be the type to turn her little tan nose up at the idea of drinking. But then she shook her head. “I heard the green monarch is away, and nobody knows when she’ll be back. I thought I’d just describe the thief to people and see if anyone knows who he is or where he might have gone.”
Duo nodded. “Makes sense. And I could use an un-Cursed Visitor like you. Relena, the pink monarch, Cursed me so I get lost all the time, so I can’t find my way into the pink enclave to talk to her.”
“That’s why you tried to wander off when we were just coming in here!” Sano realized.
“I wondered about that,” commented Saitou, who could only judge by what he heard.
“That’s right,” Duo confirmed glumly. “Sometimes it only takes a couple of steps, and, boom! I’m at the north pole.”
Sano paid him back for laughing at him a minute before.
Kaoru shot the orc a reproving look. “I’ll be happy to help you, Duo.”
“Is the pink place on the way to the black place, though?”
“They’re practically in opposite directions,” Duo informed him. “The pink enclave is a little closer.”
“But–” Sano lifted his eyes again, this time from the depressingly bare bottom of his cup.
“Don’t make snap decisions,” Saitou reminded him.
Duo sighed. “I’m stuck here in town for at least another day anyway, until my money transfer comes in from my regular bank. So you’ve both got some time to decide whether you want to make a Quest out of this, and where we should go first if you do.”
Sano wouldn’t say so, but Saitou was right: giving this some thought seemed better than just turning Duo down offhand and rushing off alone again. He already liked this little guy, and didn’t think he’d mind traveling with him… as long as it didn’t delay his business. “All right, so obviously right now there’s only one thing to do,” he declared. And when the others looked at him expectantly he finished, “Order another round!”
Chapter 8 – Quatre Assesses Teh N00bs
It interested and amused Quatre to observe that, though the orc and the human were taking in every possible detail their greedy eyes could gather of the unfamiliar faery inn, they seemed not to notice its dirtiness and disrepair. Granted, the young man might not have observed a far greater level of neglect; but the young woman, le would have thought, should have seen it.
As for Quatre lirself, le had grown perfectly accustomed to staying in second- and third-rate inns during the course of Guidework. Some of the fare here wasn’t too bad, despite the dubious condition of the dishes; and the lumpy bed in lir room, though it smelled faintly of sweat, did technically provide a slightly better night’s rest than a tree branch or the cold earth.
Another thing Quatre had grown accustomed to was picking out fellows even in a crowded room. Le’d seen this one around and knew lir for a Guide; and based on lir solitary state beside the opening through which, if Quatre judged the angle correctly, Duo’s table below could most easily be seen and heard, le might soon become Quatre’s companion in more than just profession.
“May I join you?” the gold faery asked the pink, casting a pointed look downward at the Visitor party.
The other, wearing a female presentation, blouse, and trousers, appeared distracted for a moment, then startled. Lir somber face, framed by dark fuchsia hair, swiveled first in the direction Quatre had glanced, then at the table before lir, and finally at Quatre lirself. It seemed to take lir rather longer than it had Quatre to recognize another Guide — and no wonder; Quatre knew lir to be fairly new at this.
But finally the pink faery shook lirself and said, “Yes. Yes, of course.”
Before pulling out a chair, Quatre set down the drink le’d brought over, gave lir name and origin, and offered a golden hand — something le couldn’t publicly have done under other circumstances. The taboo relating to cross-color interaction deeply bothered lir, and the treatment le received in an establishment like this — pink faeries providing lir with whatever le paid for but simultaneously doing leir best to pretend le didn’t exist — only drove home how needlessly segregated faery societies had become. But Guide traditions were sacrosanct; even feuding monarchs couldn’t keep Guides from interacting as openly and amicably as ever.
“Tomoe of Frollino,” replied the other, standing to grip Quatre’s hand.
The introduction complete, both faeries settled at the table and looked down once more into the full-size room. The Visitors had placed drink orders and were talking animatedly about their names, which Quatre filed away as they came up. Then, briefly, le glanced around the small-size terrace again. “There should be one more of us, but nobody else here seems like a Guide.”
Tomoe made a noise of agreement, mimicked Quatre’s scan of the room, and shook lir head.
“It must be a green faery,” Quatre went on, “since that woman is under a green Protection, but I don’t see any green faeries in here at all.”
“No,” Tomoe agreed.
Quatre shrugged and returned lir attention to the party below. Le didn’t see much benefit to these three forming a Quest, except the greater safety of numbers, and perhaps the greater amusement they would provide as a group to their Guides. The latter seemed a not inconsiderable benefit, though; le laughed aloud at something one of them had just said, drained lir drink, and glanced at Tomoe to see if le found this as entertaining as Quatre did. But the focus of Tomoe’s eyes appeared to fade long before it settled on the scraggly head of lir orc Visitor.
“This will be a fun Quest,” Quatre said proddingly. And when Tomoe only made a faint sound of acquiescence, Quatre stared at lir more interestedly. Le seemed completely preoccupied, presumably with something engrossing enough to distract lir entirely from the display below.
Evidently feeling Quatre’s eyes, Tomoe looked suddenly over at lir with a start. As if shaking lirself out of a reverie, le sat up straight, glanced downward, peered into lir cup (apparently still partially full), and offered, “I’m sorry; what did you say?”
Quatre altered the statement, speculating kindly, “You have something on your mind other than this Quest.”
Tomoe gave a wan smile and said briefly, “My spouse is pregnant again.”
Filled with understanding and the beginnings of pity, Quatre inquired, “What attempt is this?”
Tomoe sighed. “Lir third, our sixth.”
And the way le said it made Quatre guess, “No success?”
“I’m very sorry to hear that. I hope your Visitor’s goals will be accomplished quickly so you can get back to lir.”
“Thank you,” said Tomoe with a slightly warmer smile, and pretty clearly returned to lir reverie.
Quatre looked on with distinct sympathy now, but couldn’t help thinking, at the same time, that Tomoe might have done better not to take on a Visitor le wouldn’t be able to pay proper attention. But perhaps le and lir spouse needed the money; if ley were trying one of those expensive new pregnancy assistance courses, this Guidework might be essential to lem. Quatre wouldn’t judge. Le did wonder whether Tomoe was a devotee of Relena’s policies on the Distorted, though.
It took some time, and quite a few drinks, for the Visitors to separate. The orc Sano appeared fairly inebriated, and, berated by the sword Saitou for wasting money and brain cells on becoming so, wandered off to find a privy. Tomoe, sighing with a different emotion from when le’d mentioned lir pregnant spouse, bade Quatre goodbye for now and followed. Quatre took from this that there was more to Tomoe’s disinclination to pay lir Visitors much attention than merely being distracted by the situation at home. Le had to admit, they might prove a handful for even a more experienced Guide.
The human Kaoru, seeming much of Saitou’s mind about Sano’s behavior but leaving all the remonstrance to him, went to arrange for a room. She’d agreed to pay for Duo’s as well while they waited for his money to come in, which Quatre knew Duo must appreciate more than the human could possibly guess (or, probably, want to know). Most likely thereafter she would head out into the town to ask about her green faery thief.
Duo himself remained at the table, glancing up and around the moment his new acquaintances had gone. Quatre flew to him just as immediately and sat down with lir back to the dwarf’s latest tankard. “Well, you’ve found yourself the least helpful quest you possibly could have!”
“You think so?” asked Duo in surprise. “I know Sano seems kinda… thoughtless… but I like him already, and Kaoru–”
“‘Thoughtless?'” Quatre laughed. “Who’s the one under a pink Curse who wouldn’t go back for a pink Guide?”
“That’s totally different; you know that! You know I wanted someone I could trust!”
“I’d be flattered if I weren’t pretty sure that’s stubbornness talking instead of any real attachment to me.”
Duo dodged the point and went back to the previous. “But I like Kaoru too, even if she’s likely to be a little uptight about things. Why do you think they won’t be helpful?”
Quatre shook lir head with a smile. Le supposed the pink Guide business wasn’t really worth emphasizing any further. “Kaoru is under a green Protection.”
“Dammit!” said Duo. “Why didn’t she tell us?”
“She doesn’t seem to understand how things work around here,” Quatre speculated. “I think you could help her much more than the other way around.”
“Sano should still be able to help me, though. He’s not actually Cursed himself.”
“I didn’t get the feeling he’s likely to put that sword down any time soon; did you?”
Without answering the question, Duo tugged at his chestnut-colored beard. Quatre thought he did this not so much out of pensiveness as because he really liked his beard. At least he spent enough time brushing it out and braiding it every day. But presently he leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Well, at least that solves the problem of where to go first. The black enclave it is!”
“So you’re still going to join this Quest?” Quatre wasn’t as surprised as le might have been.
The dwarf shrugged. “I don’t have anything better to do, do I? And before you suggest going back to the border and finding a pink Guide, just… don’t… suggest that.” He didn’t seem to mind this weak finish, but signaled for service.
Quatre chuckled as le flew back to the upper terrace and sat at the edge of an opening, dangling lir feet and looking down. Duo, it seemed, felt more at home in a Quest than out of one, and would probably cling to that with every bit of dwarven stubbornness he possessed, just as he did to the idea of not going back for a pink Guide. Quatre didn’t mind. It would only make the journey more entertaining. And after all, le’d become a Guide in the first place to be able to interact with more than merely lir own people, the faeries subject to the monarch least interested in cooperation and acceptance.
Chapter 9 – Sano Has No Sense
Postre had not yet ceased to fascinate Kaoru. Its mixture of full-size and small-size buildings allowed for a much bigger population than she’d expected when she’d first arrived, and its elaborately decorated pink shops and market stalls seemed fancy enough for a capital city. She wondered what actual faery capitals looked like, if a small town like this was so casually embellished.
She’d had no luck so far in picking up the trail of the thief she was after. Most of the faeries she asked responded politely, and some were even friendly — especially those that had either seen or heard about her throwing herself into the middle of a fight between an orc and a dwarf yesterday — but none of them recognized the description she gave or had any idea (beyond recommending she head into green territory) where to find what she sought. And her inquiries were often met with some bemusement or even confusion that she didn’t understand.
Imugeme seemed shy of being seen by other faeries. She’d explained, that first day, about the privacy Guides traditionally kept to, and Kaoru supposed that was the reason, but it made her difficult to talk to sometimes; the human would look around for her with some comment on the tip of her tongue, only to find her nowhere in sight.
At the moment, though, as Kaoru made her way around the northwest side of town closest to the river, in which at some distance she could see an unexpectedly great number of pink faeries splashing, Imugeme sat on her shoulder. The road was largely unpeopled, but every time a faery passed by, the green Guide would dart away somewhere.
“In all the towns outside, I always saw some foreigners,” Kaoru remarked. “In the human towns, there would be other races and other species… and I went through a dwarf town where I wasn’t the only human. Even in my little dairy hometown, we had a troll family. But here I’ve seen almost nothing but pink faeries. Why is that?”
“Faeries of different colors don’t mix much,” Imugeme replied. “It’s different with Guides, of course, but in everyday life this is what you should expect.”
“That seems like a shame.”
A little sadly, Imugeme agreed. “There’s nothing to be done about it around here, though.”
“How far off is the green realm?”
“At least two weeks’ travel northwest to the border, and almost as long again to the green enclave. It will be winter before we can possibly get there.”
“I wonder if the queen will be back in that amount of time…”
“Monarch,” Imugeme corrected. “And I suppose it’s possible. Are you thinking of going there by yourself?”
“Probably not. Until we actually know the green monarch is at home, it seems like a waste of time, doesn’t it? And Sano and Duo need help.”
“It’s kind of you to think of them.”
“I’m just trying to be sensible! Sano seems like he needs that. And poor Duo, getting lost everywhere… I really think non-faeries need to stick together in here.”
“I still admire your kindness.”
Kaoru blushed and glanced around. “Look, this is a home neighborhood; I don’t want to bother people here. Can you help me find shops and things again?”
“Of course, my dear.”
Postre had a second inn, cleaner and more comfortable than the one Kaoru and her new friends were staying in, and at first she’d considered raising the idea of moving there for the rest of their time in town. But having gone inside and inquired into prices, she’d realized why Duo had chosen the third-rate establishment over this one. She was nearly out of money, and must reserve what remained to pay Imugeme and feed herself. The reflection embarrassed her, but this made for another good reason to join a Quest: she needed better-off companions if she hoped to get anywhere.
And the next day, Duo’s money really did arrive. Kaoru had wondered whether it would, or whether Duo hadn’t been deceiving them in the hopes that the others (or at least Sano) would get impatient to leave and declare their intentions of funding the trip themselves. Granted, Duo seemed perfectly honest, but Kaoru still didn’t trust plenty of what she encountered in Faeryland.
The dwarf spent a lot of time in his bedroom at the inn, doing what Kaoru had no idea, but he’d emerged this morning, as yesterday, to visit the bank and check on his transfer; and now he’d found both of his new companions and brought them back to the common room for further discussion.
“I’ve been saving for years,” he said somewhat glumly once they’d placed their orders for breakfast and drinks with the innkeeper. “I’m what you might call filthy rich. Probably a good thing, too, but I wasn’t looking forward to blowing it all on a long journey. How are you guys’ finances?”
“Uh… not great?” Sano replied, appearing embarrassed. “I gotta keep paying my Guide, and I’ve never seen any of the flowers le wants, so it’s gotta be money. I can’t afford much else except food and shit.”
“You’ve never been good at handling money,” Saitou remarked. Kaoru still wasn’t entirely used to that disembodied voice from somewhere around Sano’s thighs.
Duo nodded, then looked at the human.
“I’m about the same.” She felt less embarrassed admitting it than she would have if Sano’s emotion hadn’t seemed enough for the both of them.
Duo repeated his nod, even more glum. “Then I guess I’m the financial backer of this expedition. Well, it’ll help me in the end! I’ll just have to start saving again. I’ll give you two some money, and we’ll all go out into town and stock up for the trip.”
“And then we can leave for the black place?” Sano wondered, brightening. “I can’t wait to see a bunch of black trees and rocks and shit!”
“You’ve never been a good team player,” said Saitou.
“Shut up,” Sano grumbled.
Somewhat to Kaoru’s surprise, Duo agreed with the orc. “Yeah, let’s head west. You won’t see a bunch of black trees, though; the black realm is completely underground. The entrance is in a town in the Eintopf hills at the border of the pink realm, so that’s where we’ll make for. It’s been a long time since I was there! That won’t be so bad.”
Kaoru wondered why Duo had decided on this course of action rather than visiting the closer pink enclave first. Perhaps it was because she might eventually want to continue on into the green realm, and that too lay far to the west. Perhaps it was just to placate Sano and keep him from breaking the Quest up before it had even truly formed. They needed to do something with Sano’s energy; she thought he and Duo had already been fighting behind the inn when she wasn’t around (and when the dwarf wasn’t busy in his bedroom). So she asked, “What’s the land like between here and there?”
“Plains,” he replied. “Farmland, grazing land, and some wild meadowlands. There’s a road all the way. Should be pretty easy travel.”
She nodded. “Should we plan to leave in the morning, or do you think we’ll do all right leaving a little later today, after we’ve shopped?”
Duo considered this for a moment, and his eyes roved around the common room briefly before he decided. “Tomorrow. Best to get one last good sleep in a bed before it’s back to sleeping on the ground, eh?”
Kaoru completely agreed, but Sano seemed impatient. “Let’s go shopping, then!” he declared.
“Finish your breakfast,” the human commanded, pointing to the pink salad she wouldn’t have expected someone of his species to favor for that meal.
“Yes, mom,” he said with a roll of eyes, and started shoving leaves into his mouth.
Probably because of Saitou’s comment on Sano’s ability to handle money, Duo seemed to give him less than he did Kaoru. He instructed the two of them to buy whatever they needed — with an emphasis on that last word — except food, which he would take care of. Then they dispersed to the market streets and shops of Postre, an area with which Kaoru was becoming increasingly familiar.
She’d brought multiple changes of clothing with her — all she owned, in fact, that was suited to an adventure like this; so the only garment she purchased was a vest of pinkish-brown leather for some added protection. She traded her backpack and paid the difference for a bigger, sturdier one of that same material, and she obtained a new walking staff.
At Imugeme’s suggestion, she bought some bandages and salves, since, though she could count on her Protection to keep her out of most harm’s way, and on her green Guide to heal her if she did suffer some injury, her companions seemed the sort to get wounded and require more mundane attention. She also increased her sewing supplies for mending purposes, including a large, strong needle and thick thread for use on leather. And, reminded by Duo’s reference to sleeping on the ground, she improved her bedroll. All in all, it was a satisfying few hours in the market that she never could have afforded a quarter of on her own.
While at this, she asked around again about the green thief, but met with no more success than before. Then, since she had nothing better to do and no desire to watch Duo and Sano sparring like idiots or whatever they called it, she spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the bridge that led out of town to the west — the one they would cross in the morning — talking to Imugeme. The latter had many funny and touching stories to tell of her childhood in the green realm, for which Kaoru paid her in kind with tales of growing up with sometimes-ridiculous foster-parents and -sister on a dairy farm.
As usual, Duo retired early to his room that evening, leaving Sano and Kaoru to finish their dinner and drinks in the common room without him. The orc soon became too intoxicated for the human to get any enjoyment out of his company, and too loud for her to converse with Saitou conveniently, so eventually she left instructions with the innkeeper as to what should be done with Sano if he grew as disruptive and belligerent as she feared he must, and also went early to bed.
The next morning, rather to her surprise, she and even the hungover Sano were awake, breakfasted, and ready to leave before Duo emerged from his room. The dwarf didn’t hold them up much longer, though; he bought some meat buns for eating on his feet, settled the final account with the innkeeper, and, with a wistful look back toward the bedrooms, proclaimed himself at their disposal. Kaoru wondered whether he just loved sleep that much.
Across the bridge, the road sloped upward for about half a mile through brush and lingering trees she’d gotten a good look at yesterday, then leveled out, and Kaoru had her first sight of faery farmland. At first she couldn’t help goggling, for it appeared so different from any such land she’d ever seen. All the plants’ being pink came as no surprise, but they were so unusual in themselves, and had been harvested in a manner so foreign to her, she simply didn’t know what to make of it.
Then, there were so few full-size buildings! As far as the eye could see, no habitations presented themselves — not one single farmhouse met her searching gaze. Barns, yes, stables (for what animal she couldn’t quite tell), and livestock pens, but no homes. Duo had to inform her a few hours into their walk that faeries found it safer and more convenient to live small-size out in the open like this, though most of their work must be carried out full-size.
They came upon fields full of cows in a variety of pink-like colors — mostly smaller and less solidly built than those on the dairy back home, and with thicker creamy pink horns — and even some horses in the same hues that otherwise looked more or less like the horses she might have seen anywhere. They passed a small lake where waterfowl such as she’d never encountered called and splashed, but more often they saw V’s of unfamiliar birds heading out on some mysterious migratory pattern that took them she knew not where.
So fascinating did their surroundings prove that Kaoru paid little attention to her companions or even the passing hours, but somewhere in her subconscious lay the awareness that Sano was equal parts interested and bored, and that Duo kept attempting to wander off in the wrong direction but was consistently tugged back on course by some little gold flash pulling on one of his braids.
He informed them at lunchtime, as they sat in the imperfect shade and the fallen leaves of some pink tree resembling a maple, that the road swung farther north than their direct westward path in order to hit the town of Yabloko, but that he advised sticking to it for a few reasons: first, that by the time they could, they would certainly want to spend a night or two in a civilized settlement; second, that leaving the road meant making their way across various people’s lands, for which they might get in trouble; and third, that they should take advantage of a paved path while they had it, as they would miss it later. Kaoru, who admired his knowledge of Faeryland geography and had no problem with staying on the road, believed he laid out these reasons so carefully in order to head off Sano’s potential complaints, in which endeavor he succeeded.
Evening and even full night under constellations that, for a change, were not pink came much sooner than Kaoru had expected; but when she could no longer make out details in the pale starlight, and eventually began to stumble and yawn, her attention returned firmly to the mechanics of the journey. She’d been so engrossed in looking around her, the time had flown. She doubted she could count on any subsequent day’s going by so rapidly, but she appreciated it as a good start.
At a particularly egregious near-fall, “Humans,” Duo remarked with a shake of his head. “I don’t know how you guys ever get anywhere.” And indeed, he’d shown no signs of flagging, and still maintained the same pace he’d set out at this morning.
“We ride horses,” Kaoru yawned.
“You wanna keep going?” Sano wondered skeptically.
“Oh, I could walk another eight hours without needing to sleep,” Duo replied with a barely-visible smug smile. And if that was true, Kaoru thought, maybe he’d been saving up on sleep at the inn in Postre.
“Well, I could cover way more ground in the time we’ve been going,” was Sano’s defiance in return. “Orcs are damn fast runners, you know.”
“They’re at least good at running their mouths,” said Saitou.
Kaoru giggled. “I can’t run fast or travel for a long time without sleep. I guess I’ll always be the bottleneck.”
“We’ll look for a good place to stop,” Duo assured her.
After not too much longer, the shadow of a full-size building began to loom up on their left, appearing a short distance off the road past the stout pink fence that had been flanking them for the last several miles. They hadn’t paid any heed to such places all day, except for Kaoru to study them with interest, but now it seemed they approached a potential shelter for the night. This land had obviously been set aside for the growing of some type of grain or grass, which had been harvested in the usual incomprehensible spiral pattern, so the building was probably stuffed full; but there should be room for three travelers, Kaoru thought.
However, as they drew nearer, she suddenly felt a sharp tugging at first her pony tail and then the hood of her cloak — a stronger pull than she would have expected from Imugeme (for she it must be) apparently intent on dragging her to the right side of the road away from the barn. If the little yelp Sano gave was any indication, he’d had the same experience with his own Guide. With one accord, they all stopped moving.
“Looks like that won’t do,” said Duo, his tone as dark as the night around them and his braided hair swinging.
“Why?” Sano wondered, and his voice, on the contrary, was filled with curiosity. “What’s over there?”
The dwarf answered briefly, “Something our Guides don’t like,” and resumed his walk at a sharp angle to the right.
“Now I really wanna know, though!” Sano took off down the road toward the unidentified building. Difficult as it was to make out in the shadows, Kaoru thought he really did run very fast.
“Sano, stop!” Duo shouted after him. “Come back, damn you! It’s probably demon-infested!” But only Sano’s laughter came floating back to them. “What’s the point of having Guides if you don’t let them guide you??” He let out a frustrated grunt, turned his back on the direction in which Sano had disappeared, and drummed his thick dwarven fingers on the haft of his axe.
“Come on,” Kaoru said. “We’ve got to go after him.”
“Look, I’m just as fond as the next guy of rushing into danger, but in Faeryland, doing that can get you worse than dead.”
“We’re a Quest now,” said the human reprovingly. “We need to look out for each other.”
Duo stared at her for a moment, then grinned, his teeth bright in the darkness. “You’re right!” he admitted. And they started after the miscreant orc.
Just as they’d clambered over the fence and properly approached the barn, watching the stars ahead of them blotted out by its rising blackness, a hideous screech arose from around it on their left where the entrance probably stood. Kaoru stumbled, caught herself on her staff, and wavered for a moment in fear, for she knew that sound; Duo only ran on. Next a roar undoubtedly from the throat of a combative orc split the night, another screech, and a horrible squelching, crunching noise. By the time Kaoru and Duo had picked their way over a wrecked wagon hiding in tall weeds and around to the front of the building, it was all over.
“You bloodthirsty fool,” the sword in Sano’s hand was saying harshly as the starlight gleamed off the liquid that covered his blade. “You complete idiot. Are you deaf? Just once in your life, could you think about what you’re planning before you do it?”
Panting, Kaoru halted a few steps away from Sano at the sight of the pale, twisted figure oozing at his feet. “Sano, what did you do?” she demanded breathlessly.
“This one was way easier to kill than that one we met the first day,” Sano said in a mixture of enthusiasm and disappointment. “Barely scratched me! Looks like it was half starved.”
“Sano! Didn’t they explain this to you at the entrance? Didn’t your Guide explain? It’s illegal to kill these things in the pink realm!” She slammed her staff angrily into the ground. “If you’re going to get us in trouble like this, you can damn well go to the black enclave on your own!”
Duo spread his hands and said, more or less jovially, “They’re right; you’re a fucking idiot.”
Scowling, Sano replied, “Oh, go impale yourself.” The verb carried the very specific connotation of being run through on a sharpened stake of wood driven at an angle into the ground for the defense of an orc war camp. He did have the grace to look somewhat sheepish at the same time, though. “But on the bright side, we can definitely sleep in this barn now!”
“I am not sleeping anywhere near that dead body,” Kaoru declared. “Besides, there might be more inside.”
“Nah, I think this guy–” kicking the fallen Distorted with a booted foot– “was trying to get in looking for food. See, the lock’s still on the doors.”
“If someone comes along and finds us with that body, we’ll be arrested.”
“Yeah,” said Duo, and, turning, gestured. “Let’s get going. We’ll cover a few more miles and then make camp.”
With a snort, Sano began cleaning off the sword on the edge of his tunic, and followed. They climbed the fence again and continued down the road in a fairly awkward silence. Sano eventually sheathed the weapon and stuffed his big hands into his pockets, hunching his shoulders over in what Kaoru believed to be a state of surly guilt.
She took a deep breath. “They’re called the Distorted,” she began quietly, struggling to strip all accusation from her tone. “Or some people call them demons. They’re children of faeries who come out all wrong — crazy and aggressive. The monarch around here is trying to figure out how to save them, which is why it’s illegal to kill them in this area. You’re supposed to alert her or something, and she sends people out after it.”
“That does sound kinda familiar,” Sano mumbled.
“Because our Guide told us all about it when you made the pact,” Saitou snapped. “But you’ve always made a habit of conveniently forgetting laws.”
“Hey, cheer up!” Duo said. Sano’s chastised-puppy air seemed to have done the job for him very well. “Live and learn, right? As long as you actually live. Nobody’s likely to find that one until at least tomorrow morning, and we’ll be long gone. Just, you know, don’t do it again.”
As a new silence fell, Kaoru could see Sano observing her dragging steps and reliance on her walking staff. Finally, penitently, he said, “Want me to carry you?”
Before Kaoru could do more than smile at the idea, Duo broke in. “I don’t hear you offering to carry me.”
“Oh, go impale yourself,” Sano repeated. But now there was a grin in the words.
Chapter 10 – Tomoe Laments
Despite the human’s evident weariness, the dwarf had pushed them on for another two hours after the grisly scene at the barn. But once they’d settled down at the side of the road around a fire, Tomoe felt free to give lirself up to grief.
The previous Distorted Sano had encountered had attacked him in the forest to the northeast not far from the border. Tomoe had sensed it, of course, and advised Sano to run, but he, stubborn as always, had not obeyed. Even so, for all the illegality of the killing, and for all the orc had enjoyed it, a claim of self-defense would not be out of place.
Tonight had been different.
On a large, nearly horizontal bough of a tree that, standing alone near the road, had lost all of its leaves to autumn winds, le crouched and put lir head in lir hands. Lir sorrow rarely had physical manifestation, but that almost made it harder to bear. Le would have preferred to weep. In Kenshin’s company, le might have been able to let it out, but as it was, le could only clutch at the pain, grappling for mastery, in perfect silence.
Presently le felt a hand on lir shoulder. It could only be Quatre’s, and, though Tomoe would rather have a longtime friend than anyone currently nearby, le appreciated the gesture. Le braced lirself, gathered what strength le could, and stood up. Turning to face the other faery, le drew in and let out a deep breath.
To lir surprise, le found tears on Quatre’s face along with the expression of deep concern. “I’m so sorry,” le said. Then, adding a formal statement that indicated a motive of unromantic friendship, le pulled Tomoe into a hug.
The pink faery stiffened, unused to this kind of comfort from a recent acquaintance and never having expected such compassion from a gold faery, but after a moment le returned the embrace. This was almost enough to free the tears, but not quite — yet lir appreciation deepened, and lir pain sank just a little. “Thank you,” le whispered.
Quatre released lir and took a step back. Then le took one more, and dropped into a seated position, looking down at the Quest below. The invitation to stay and unburden couldn’t be more clear, and Tomoe was very grateful. After a moment le too sat, drawing lir knees up to lir chin, but gazed up instead of down. Le didn’t want to see Sano right now.
After a while, le turned lir eyes back toward Quatre. The gold faery had changed clothing and presentation at some point when Tomoe hadn’t been looking, and now wore a long, flowing sleeveless tunic over tight trousers, bare feet, and a flat chest. The intermingled fiery red and orange of lir garments looked bright even in the darkness, and seemed incongruously but not unwelcomely cheerful.
Barely loud enough to be heard over the night breeze, Tomoe said, “It could have been one of my children.”
“Were you trying that early?” Quatre wondered.
Tomoe nodded. “Our first three attempts came before the monarch’s decree. We kept lem with us as long as we could — ley’re not aggressive at first, you know…”
“I have heard that.”
“But eventually ley even turn against leir parents. We hoped that maybe, if we showed lem enough love and gentleness, ours would be different… My spouse is a champion of love and gentleness.” Le almost smiled at the thought. “But it was no good. One by one, we had to set lem down near others of leir kind. We had to fly away and leave lem. We’ve never known if ley lived or died.”
“I’m so sorry,” Quatre said again.
And Tomoe likewise repeated, “Thank you.” Le sighed, and once more felt the tears close but not quite within reach. “It got a little easier once Relena started taking in Distorted babies. It still hurt to fly away, but at least we were leaving lem in better circumstances, or so we’ve always hoped. But nothing can ever make it hurt less…” Le pulled lir knees even tighter against lir. “…hurt less to go through years of pregnancy and finally deliver a… someone who’ll never love you, someone who’ll try to kill you…”
“I can only imagine,” said Quatre very softly. And the starlight seemed to sparkle off the paths of moisture down lir face even more than it did off lir gold skin.
“It’s so kind of you to cry for me,” said Tomoe even more quietly. Especially since le was unable to do so for lirself.
Quatre gave a faint laugh that held amusement, frustration, and some self-deprecation all at once, and swiped at lir eyes and cheeks. “I can’t help it. It’s just too damn awful.”
It was. There was nothing else to be said. It was just too damn awful.
“I think it’s incredibly brave of you and your spouse to keep trying, though. I don’t know if I would have that kind of strength.”
“You’ve never borne a child?”
Quatre shook lir head.
“It takes something out of you. Something transfers from you into the baby. With normal children, it seems to me that ley repay it over and over again, but with a Distorted child… you lose something you never get back. If you’re planning on having children, I’d advise you to wait until the Distorted problem has been solved.”
The slight frown that crossed Quatre’s face made Tomoe wonder whether le’d struck a nerve with this last. If so, le regretted it, but could do little to make amends — especially when Quatre asked after only the briefest pause, “Do you believe in what Relena’s doing?”
“I have to,” Tomoe sighed. “Le’s the only one trying to determine how to fix the whole situation.”
The nod of Quatre’s golden head came slowly, and lir lips were pursed. Again Tomoe wondered what le was thinking.
Finally le asked, “And you? Do you believe in what Dorothy is doing?”
“Exterminating all Distorted in lir realm? I’ve been withholding judgment, but…” Le smiled wanly at the pink faery. “I’m grateful for your perspective. It helps me see things more clearly.”
This wasn’t precisely an answer, but Tomoe let it go. “I’m grateful for you listening,” le said instead of inquiring farther.
Several minutes passed in silence. Tomoe watched the distant clouds drift across the stars from southwest to northeast, trying to scrub from her interior vision the sight of that poor Distorted, emaciated and hopeless, pierced by a sword so deeply through its chest that ribs cracked in both front and back. Le knew the memory would blur in time, though it would never bother lir less, but le would like it to depart sooner and more completely than it possibly could. Le didn’t dare try to sleep, and couldn’t decide whether that was because le feared it wouldn’t work… or that it would.
At last, with another sigh, le glanced over at Quatre, and found lir looking down as before at the sleeping Quest. As if dragged along the line of the gold faery’s gaze, Tomoe at last turned lir eyes in the same direction.
Duo had put out the fire before he, restless and the last to settle, had gone to sleep: a wise decision, as the firepit was now choked with leaves and half scattered across the little campsite. The moon had begun to rise, however, revealing whatever the starlight hadn’t illuminated. The dwarf lay with his hands behind his head and his braided hair pulled forward onto his chest, snoring, but shifted onto his side with a mumble even as Tomoe watched.
Kaoru, whose Guide never had appeared, slept the sleep of one struggling to accustom herself to the new demands placed upon her. She’d curled up on her side inside her bedroll and begun snoring on what must be a relatively soft pile of leaves, but, drained as she’d been, Tomoe doubted she would have noticed even the hardness of the bare ground until morning.
And Sano… Tomoe forced lirself to look at him. He sprawled out on top of rather than inside his own bedroll, as le’d seen him do ever since the border despite the chilly autumn, long green limbs flung every which-way, snoring. He never removed his sword-belt, even to sleep, and on more than one occasion le’d observed him roll over onto the sheathed sword and half awaken in confused discomfort.
The sight wasn’t as hateful as le had anticipated. Le couldn’t say le liked him right now, or would ever, but there was at times something very childlike about him, and to this le was drawn. Even so… “I don’t know if I can keep my pact with him,” le murmured.
Quatre apparently started out of a half doze. “I’m sorry?”
“Sano. I don’t know if I can continue as his Guide. He doesn’t listen to me, and tonight…”
For a second time, Quatre smoothed away a frown almost as soon as it appeared on lir face. “I can understand why you’d want to leave him,” le said. Le didn’t bother enumerating the reasons it wouldn’t be a good idea, only added, “But I do think Kaoru and Duo will get the management of him.” Then le yawned.
“Maybe…” Tomoe shook lir head. “He listens to Saitou sometimes, and that’s a good sign…”
“Do you know what Saitou was like as a human?” It seemed more drowsy curiosity than continuance of the previous topic. “I have to admit, I think he must have been attractive.”
“I have no idea.” Tomoe didn’t mind changing the subject. “Strong, evidently; and Sano teases him about his hair sometimes, though he gets as good as he gives. That’s all I know.”
Quatre yawned again, then said, “I hope I get to see him sometime. As a friend.”
“Do you have someone already? Or are you just not interested in Visitors?”
“No… no, not really.” Quatre didn’t specify which question these words and lir wan smile answered, only yawned a third time.
“Why don’t you sleep?” Tomoe suggested. “I’ll watch.”
“You’re not leaving?”
“Not until we reach a town at least. I won’t abandon him in the middle of nowhere.”
“You run the risk of seeing something like tonight again.”
“I know. I know.” Le pressed a balled hand to lir forehead. And le had no idea what to say besides, again, “I know.”
Chapter 11 – Heero Has No Sensibility
Whenever Trowa was forced to leave him on other business, Heero kept to the road. It curved a little too far northward for his precise needs, but the need to avoid disaster outweighed the need to reach his destination as quickly as possible. Even making camp in a copse several yards from the track was a risk, but it was a risk he had evaluated and considered worth the greater physical comfort provided by the area more sheltered from the wind. He couldn’t travel as fast or as far at a stretch as had been the case before his Curse, and he required the best sleep he could attain.
It would be an inconvenience if something were to attack him, given he also couldn’t fight as well as before — and that never a very high standard to begin with — so he remained very alert while waking. He had warmed himself beside a small fire, but now it had fulfilled its function and could be put out to prevent attracting attention. There was nothing left for him to do besides sleeping in any case. He rose and moved to kick dirt over the flames, then paused as his ears picked up something coming this way from the direction of the road.
He had passed faeries occasionally as he walked; a few had even tried, unsuccessfully, to start a conversation with him. Faeries could travel much faster than anyone else in Faeryland, and everyone he’d met had been driving animals or carts. What he heard now sounded like the footsteps of a party of travelers, but without the accompaniment of animal noises or creaking wheels to explain their lesser speed. Probably other Visitors, then, with unknown intentions. Instead of putting out the fire, Heero put his back to it. He did not draw his knives, as he believed it would be unwise to present a threatening aspect to the newcomers, but they were ready should he need them.
“See, I told you!” a man’s voice said.
“Yes, I certainly see,” said another, slightly muffled.
They pushed their way through the trees and bushes. In the shady copse and with a figure between them and the fire, details were difficult to make out, but Heero assessed what he could: a dwarf man that looked Ghabak’nik, obviously more a warrior than Heero was, armed with something whose heavy haft alone could be seen over his shoulder — most likely a battle-axe; a tall orc man, green-skinned and tusked, wearing a sword that appeared a trifle too small for him; and a human woman with a staff in her hand that could be intended for combat or merely for walking. In either case, Heero’s knives would be of no use here.
The orc, catching sight of Heero, halted mid-gesture; he had evidently meant to indicate the fire. The human looked as if she’d been on the point of saying something, but she too stopped short on seeing the stranger. The dwarf, on the other hand, seemed prompted to speech. He advanced with a fist outstretched, smiling.
“Evening! It’s so great to see another dwarf around here!” He glanced around. “Are you traveling alone?”
“I am,” Heero replied. Deeming it wise to accept the casual Ghabak’nik greeting, he reached out to touch fists with the other man.
“Do you mind if we share your camp?” The unknown dwarf smoothed down his thick braided beard as he dropped his hand. “Safety in numbers!”
Heero believed the probability not great that these Visitors — obviously a Quest — would want to do him harm. If the improbable occurred, he had already calculated he could do little to fend them off, warriors as at least two of them appeared to be, and this consideration would apply just as much to the options of refusing the request or relocating himself. And, as the stranger said, he would be safer in their company — especially without his Guide — should they prove well disposed.
“You may,” he answered, and moved to resume his previous place sitting beside the fire.
The other dwarf approached and shed his bulky pack. He did not appear tired, and Heero assumed the Quest was resting for the benefit of the other two. Eyes fixed on Heero, he sat, and leaned back against the discarded article. “You have a Guide, I hope?”
“I do.” Heero thought he detected in this other dwarf, even at this early stage, a reaction similar to that of nearly everyone he had met since being Cursed: some confusion and negative emotion. It would, he believed, be wise to gain favor with these Visitors that would be sharing his campsite, so he added to his statement. “Are you a Quest?” He knew his toneless brevity formed at least part if not all of why others reacted negatively to him, but he could come up with no embellishment to the question.
The other, apparently deciding to ignore his own feelings for now, replied, “Yes. We’ve got some problems that can only be solved in Faeryland.”
“Hey,” the orc said at this juncture in a loud whisper, “can I greet this dwarf with the vik’talzis thing?”
In just as loud a whisper, the human answered, “Don’t be a jerk! Can’t you see he’s wounded?” And Heero made mental note of her ability to discern that something was physically wrong with him after so brief and distant an examination.
“Come sit down, you two,” the other dwarf urged his companions without a glance at them; his gaze still seemed locked on Heero. He wondered next, “Are you Cursed too?”
“I am,” said Heero.
The other dwarf sucked in a breath. He hadn’t stopped looking Heero over, and the latter wondered whether it was a gaze of assessment. Perhaps the man wanted Heero to join this Quest. But what he said was, “Have you been to talk to lir yet?”
“No. I already know what I need to do to break the Curse. Visiting Dorothy seemed unnecessary.”
The orc addressed him for the first time. “You’re two steps ahead of the rest of us, then!”
“Do you mean you don’t know how to break your Curses?” Heero turned his head in that direction as he spoke.
The orc too had dropped his pack and leaned against it, but appeared as if he didn’t know how to interpret Heero’s mannerisms, and less relaxed than his dwarf companion. “Yeah, that’s right. We’re headed to the black faery place, where I should be able to figure out mine.” For some reason, he laid a hand on the sword at his side.
“Do you mean the black enclave?” Heero asked.
Heero considered for a moment. Then he said, “I’m also traveling southwest. I believe it would be wisest if I joined you.”
The strangers all stared at him, then glanced at each other. Heero believed the other dwarf reacted positively to the suggestion, but none of them appeared to have been expecting it. Perhaps he’d made it too early in the conversation.
Trying to mitigate the effect in the interest of good relations, he added, “I may be required to leave you at any time if I sense the presence of one of the objects I’m looking for in another direction.”
At this, the others seemed a little easier, and the human woman finally sat down beside the fire, but no one spoke immediately. Heero probably should have approached the subject more circumspectly, but at this period he found it almost impossible to converse casually or irrelevantly.
“Well, I think that sounds fine,” the other dwarf said at last. “What do you guys think?”
The orc merely shrugged, then put his hands behind his head and leaned even farther back. The human looked Heero over again and said, “I don’t mind. Maybe I can help you with your injuries.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Heero replied.
The woman had some kind of negative reaction to this, and silence fell again.
After an interval, Heero said, “My name is Heero Silvertrade. I need to find a number of objects to break my Curse. They must be found in a certain order. I have some clues to their whereabouts, and I can sense them when I get close.”
The other dwarf had resumed staring at him. It looked as if he had a hard time determining that Heero had finished speaking, but after a wordless second or two he said, “Yeah, ‘Fetch me 10 items that I could just as easily have collected for myself’ is a pretty standard requirement for breaking a Curse — and actually not too bad for Dorothy! It sounds like le must have Cursed you in person.” When Heero nodded, he went on. “I’m Duo Axewielder, by the way, at your service! My Curse is from Relena, and I get lost all the time.”
“He means all the fucking time,” the orc put in, throwing a small twig at Duo.
“I haven’t talked to her yet,” Duo went on with a gesture of hand directed at the orc. “I’m helping Stupid here get to the black enclave first.”
Heero knew friends sometimes made negative comments to each other that weren’t intended to be taken seriously, but he’d lost the ability to distinguish between those and the ones that were; therefore, he couldn’t be sure whether or not Duo and the orc had mutual positive feelings. He also had no time to dwell on it, for a brief laugh that evidently did not come from any of the three other Visitors caused him to search for its source.
“That’s Saitou,” the orc explained. He lifted his sheathed sword. “He’s this sword.”
“Technically I’m the one Cursed,” the sword said. “Sano here is just my idiot courier.” And Heero believed the orc, Sano, had a negative reaction to this.
“Turning people into objects is a pretty standard Robin Curse, now I think about it,” said Duo. “Le loves making things.”
“The sword existed before the Curse,” the disembodied voice from the weapon in question contradicted. “It’s been handed down for generations in my family. It’s unbreakable, and very valuable.”
“No wonder it looks so cool,” Duo said.
‘Cool’ was a concept Heero had never understood.
Sano looked as if he might speak, but seemed to decide against it. Instead, the human woman said, “Well, Heero, I’m Kaoru Kamiya. I’m looking for something too, but in my case it’s only one thing, and I can’t sense anything about it.” She smiled across the fire, trying, Heero believed, to make an emotional connection with him.
In this he could not meet her, but he did come up with something else to say. “Where do you need to go to break your Curse?”
“It’s not actually a Curse. I just had something stolen from me by a green faery, and I want it back. I’ve been describing the thief to people, but nobody seems to have heard of him. I’ll probably need to talk to the green monarch eventually. For now–” she gave a particularly wide smile, indicating what emotion Heero could not assess– “I’m helping Duo help Stupid get to the black enclave.”
“Hey!” said the orc loudly. The sword at his hip — Saitou — laughed again.
It might, Heero reflected, weary his mind more than his body to travel with these people. They all expressed so much emotion, and interacted in ways he could not comprehend. The simplest solution would be not to try, but because there was a rightness to understanding the world around him just as there was to finding the items he needed, and because knowing his allies as well as possible seemed logical, he would try whether it tired him or not.
It would tire his body too. He was already tired, and had postponed getting any rest in order to talk to these new companions. Now he stood, and said, “I plan to sleep now. I’ll leave putting out the fire to you.”
Before he turned fully away from them and toward his bedroll, he believed he again detected signs of negative reactions, perhaps to his abruptness. He didn’t know for certain, and wouldn’t have had any conception what to do about it if he had.
Chapter 12 – Trowa Proposes Marriage For The First Time In At Least Three Weeks
On this threshold of winter, Tomoe had changed into thicker clothing and added a plum-colored coat with squorrel fur at collar and cuffs. This last had been tailored in the small size and would not expand, but le didn’t anticipate needing to go full-size any time soon. Anyway le lacked Quatre’s apparent skill at summoning items from home without much effort, and had chosen lir favorite coat to wear until le next felt it necessary to expend the energy to summon something else.
Sano, le noticed, still slept on top of his bedroll despite his breaths being visible once the sun had gone down; but he sprawled less and curled up more, lying on his right side so as not to awaken with a sword-shaped dent in his left. Kaoru and Duo slept as they usually did, though the dwarf seemed more restless than usual tonight. And the other dwarf… this new Heero person… he slept like the dead. He appeared battered and exhausted, and Tomoe wondered if that explained his strange demeanor.
“Any sign of Kaoru’s Guide yet?” Quatre wondered as le joined Tomoe in the small branches of a leafless shrub and gazed out over the Quest. The gold faery too had changed clothing, as le did fairly often — this time into a turquoise cloak that buttoned across lir flat chest and gave the impression almost of a uniform. Tomoe reflected a little forlornly that Quatre looked good in everything le wore and every presentation le adopted; some people had all the luck.
“No,” le said in response to the question. “None at all.”
“Le must be the antisocial sort,” Quatre remarked in a pointedly louder tone, lir eyes darting here and there as if to catch sight of someone hiding just behind the next clump of weeds.
Tomoe nodded. “Or maybe,” le speculated after a moment, “she has no Guide. Maybe she couldn’t afford the ongoing rate, and bought a Protection instead.”
“I suppose that’s possible… but then how could she have found her way so far before she joined the Quest?”
Tomoe answered with only a shake of lir head. Le was studying Heero again where he lay, the farthest from the fire and the others, sleeping like a stone in a bedroll that appeared lighter than any of his companions’. Le wondered whether he, like Sano, didn’t mind the cold as much as Duo and especially Kaoru did; or if he simply didn’t have the physical strength to add the weight of extra blankets to his baggage. And also… “I wonder who Heero’s Guide is.”
Quatre agreed. “He claimed to have one… Maybe le’s the antisocial sort too!” Lir cheerful smile sounded in lir next statement: “What an interesting Quest we’ve found!”
Ley said nothing more, and Tomoe, at least, fell into a doze, propped up at various points by the twigs into which le’d more or less nestled, only occasionally opening lir eyes for a quick sweep of the camp. Le half-contemplated, half-dreamed of Kenshin, alone at home dealing with pregnancy without lir, and some time passed. Le’d reached the stage where a voice in lir head had begun nagging that this wasn’t really comfortable and le should find a better place to get some real sleep, when Quatre startled lir fully awake by jumping up and fluttering into the air. It required not much visual scanning to see another faery approaching, and Tomoe too, yawning, rose and flew.
The newcomer, light purple of skin and with darker hair that swept over lir face on one side, wore simple clothing and no sexual presentation, and was most probably Heero’s Guide. The only thing that stood out about lir, Tomoe noticed as le came up to them and stopped at a hover before Quatre, was the filigree silver sheaths decorated with gems of red and green and white that adorned both of lir ears. They had the appearance of wedding jewels, though it seemed unusual for someone to be wearing both the left and the right, and must have cost the stranger a pretty penny.
“Trowa!” Quatre did not actually raise lir voice, but lir tone was that of a shout. “I’m so glad to see you!”
Wordlessly, the purple faery unlatched one of the ear-sheaths, slid it free, and held it out with both hands to the gold faery. Tomoe’s brows rose. If this was a marriage proposal, it was the strangest le’d ever seen.
Quatre laughed and reached up to close Trowa’s fingers over the offering. “I’d rather have you play for us,” le said lightly. And as Trowa replaced the jewel on lir ear, Tomoe somehow got the feeling ley’d been through this ritual many times, which perhaps explained its complete lack of ceremony. But if it had been a marriage proposal, how realistically did Trowa mean it? Le had demonstrated no emotion thus far — which, Tomoe reflected, made lir particularly suited for Heero’s Guide — and Quatre, for all lir apparent openness, proved surprisingly difficult to read. Had le refused because this was merely a recurring game between lem, or because of the difficulties of intercolor marriage in the current climate, or because le wasn’t interested?
The pink faery couldn’t help thinking back to lir engagement with Kenshin, which actually made lir smile. They’d taken part in an initiative of Relena’s to build and settle a new town in a spot where the monarch particularly wanted one not far from the gold border. It had so happened that the others involved had been nearly all married couples, and Tomoe and Kenshin, as close friends, had naturally been believed among that number. Eventually Kenshin had suggested, half jokingly, that ley too get married so reality would match assumption. The subsequent redness of each face had forced lem, unexpectedly, to deal with the subject a good deal more seriously.
“Let’s find a spot in the trees,” Trowa said, speaking for the first time and gesturing upward.
As they flew, Quatre remarked, “You look exhausted.”
Trowa landed on a branch and glanced around, then back at Quatre, and nodded.
“Trust a purple faery to be Guiding more than one Visitor at a time!” Quatre said with a smile. As Trowa found a seat beside the bole of the tree, le dropped down next to lir with the air of nothing more than a friend. Tomoe, though le believed le would sleep elsewhere and give these two leir privacy, just in case they needed it, sat cross-legged nearby for now.
“‘Trust a purple faery,'” Trowa echoed. “That’s not something I often hear a gold faery say.”
Quatre laughed. “Here’s your opportunity to hear it from a pink faery too! This is Tomoe of Frollino. Tomoe, this is Trowa of Romãgarden.” And Tomoe had to get to lir feet again in order to clasp hands with Trowa, though le didn’t yet offer the suggested statement of faith in someone that might very well be a spy.
“And I’d better tell you about the Quest,” Quatre went on, observing Tomoe’s silence with a momentary drawing-together of brows that smoothed immediately. Trowa nodded. “You know Duo, of course.”
“The dwarf bodyguard?”
“That’s the one. I think we’ve all wondered what he would be like as a member of a Quest instead.”
“Is he Cursed, then? I’ll owe Cathy some glass.”
Again Quatre laughed. “I should have made my own bet when I had the chance!” And le went on to describe Duo’s Curse and his resultant attitude, as well as Kaoru and her situation. “You should have heard her trying to make friends with your strange dwarf!” he finished.
“I assume that didn’t work,” Trowa said with a faint smile.
“What’s wrong with him?” Quatre reached behind to scratch a molting spot on one wing.
“It’s private. You’ll have to wait until he chooses to explain.”
Tomoe was a little disappointed, if not exactly surprised, at this answer.
“Tomoe,” Quatre asked courteously, “would you prefer to tell Trowa about Sano?”
The pink faery, seated closer to the curve of the branch, looked down once more at lir Visitor and listened to his distant snoring for a moment. Then le shook lir head.
“Sano…” Quatre began, and broke off to chuckle as if le couldn’t help it. Le grinned all through lir description of the orc, the sword, and their Curse and their acrimony, and eventually declared that the reality was far more amusing than le could tell it.
Trowa thanked lir for the information, and asked who Kaoru’s Guide was. And after a brief exchange on that subject, ley fell silent. Presently Trowa, perhaps remembering Quatre’s request, produced a flute and began to play.
Tomoe recognized the melody; the lyrics that went with it discussed the narrator’s desire for the ‘beautiful soul’ of the object of lir affection. It had been quite popular a few years ago, and, in addition to enjoying it so well performed now, le wondered whether it was as pointed a gesture of courtship as it seemed. Fearing that, if le remained where le sat, le ran the risk either of being lulled to sleep in an awkward place or adding lir voice uninvited to the compelling music, le stood and looked around for a better spot to rest.
Quatre rose as well, and came to lir side. “We’re in a position now to have at least two Guides with the Quest most of the time,” le murmured — “maybe even three, if Kaoru’s is hiding somewhere near. If you want to go check on your spouse from time to time, I’m sure we could handle things here.”
“That’s generous of you,” said Tomoe gratefully in return. “You don’t mind taking the first watch, do you?”
“Not at all,” le smiled.
Tomoe nodded, and flew upward into the smaller branches.
‘Beautiful soul’ described Kenshin so well: so gentle and kind-hearted, so firm of purpose yet so conciliating of manner… exuding a peace le could sink into even in times of hardship. And ley’d certainly had times of hardship. Tomoe could only hope that, at least when le was around, le provided a similar level of strength and emotional support.
And now le believed, as a friend, that Quatre merited the same description, whether or not le could be easily read. Gold faeries were known as harsh, insular, and grasping, but Quatre seemed to be none of these things. In addition to the thoughtfulness le had shown Tomoe all along in relation to lir situation, le seemed to be in favor of good relations among the colors (something Tomoe too should probably support, though le had other things to think of at this juncture); and le’d talked about the Quest just now with good-natured rationality, and with a knowledge of the racial divisions of other intelligent species that had impressed Tomoe (and that Trowa, le believed, had shown some hint of fondly admiring).
Though the pink faery’s thoughts remained primarily with lir spouse as le curled up, shivering a little, in a recess of the tree, le also reflected briefly and sincerely that if Trowa wanted to marry Quatre, that seemed perfectly understandable.
Chapter 13 – Duo Doesn’t Discern Dude’s Dilemma
Traveling with Heero was strange. He limped along at about a human’s pace, sometimes appearing tired or uncomfortable but never appearing to have any emotional state to correspond with the physical. He complained not at all, only mentioned as an indifferent fact, when he reached that point, that he couldn’t go much further. And while he responded to anything directed at him, he rarely attempted to start a conversation, and never made remarks in passing. Everything he did say was spoken with the same toneless abruptness as everything he’d said when they’d first met.
So Duo supposed he should amend his thought and declare that Heero himself was strange. For a variety of reasons, he would prefer not to, but he just couldn’t get a handle on the other dwarf. He’d taken an immediate liking to Sano and Kaoru, which had increased his general sanguinity about the journey; but Heero had been on the road with them for five days now, and Duo knew him not a whit better than he had at the start. Duo doubted Heero would ever get in their way, but would he actually be any use?
Well, that wasn’t quite true, for Heero did get in the way.
He was Onkoltuk, a race somewhat darker and distinctly less hairy than Duo’s, and had revealed that he came from Azh’krizh, a small, mostly underground kingdom northwest of Duo’s original homeland in the Southern Rog’kik Range. No surprise his family name was Silvertrade. He didn’t look like a miner, though; in fact Duo had rarely seen so smooth a skin on a dwarf before. Heero’s mustache and beard, though growing out scraggly on this leg of the journey between towns, appeared to have been originally just as smooth. And his eyelashes… they swept in a luxurious body to the side above an eye like a deep pool without ripples. He had not seen fit to reveal what had happened to the other eye, only mentioned, when asked, that eventually he would be able to remove the patch.
His figure also seemed unusually smooth. Of course he was broad, as a dwarf should be, but there was something about him a little narrower and more lithe than Duo. The latter got the feeling that, once the unspecified injuries had healed — especially whatever had happened to his left foot, the obvious source of his limp — Heero would be downright graceful.
And all of this did dreadful things to Duo’s penis.
Of course he’d grown up hearing horror stories about kil’ak’brük, along with recommendations of certain meditation techniques designed to strengthen the mind over the needs of the body in time to meet with calmness and fortitude the approximately decade-long period of wild desire. He’d never practiced the meditation, and three years into his sexual maturation seemed too late to start. But he’d had no idea it could get this bad, having long assumed his elder siblings’ warnings exaggerated for effect.
His parents had given him The Talk about halfway through his second century, but because he’d never demonstrated any interest in women and therefore pregnancy wasn’t a concern (and such preferences were usually borne out by kil’ak’brük), their advice had amounted to, ‘If you’re not ready to withstand the physical need you’re going to feel, make sure you have an arrangement with someone for those ten years.’ He shook his head looking back, but you couldn’t change the past. One of his letters home, though, after about fourteen months of kil’ak’brük, had certainly been full of his thoughts on how inadequately young adults were prepared for the experience. The answer had been, essentially, ‘This is your fault for deciding to live permanently in Faeryland instead of with other dwarves like a normal person.’
Since he’d started, he’d run in with a few compatible dwarven Visitors sympathetic to his plight, and a couple of faeries that enjoyed what amounted, for a non-dwarf, to fucking a rock… but no one that could help him in the long term. His dildo was a lifesaver, but he couldn’t bring himself to use it anywhere besides the privacy of an inn room. They couldn’t reach Yabloko soon enough. In good conscience he wouldn’t be able to urge his companions to stay for more than one night, but they did need to stock up on winter goods, which might delay them…
And now here was this unbelievably handsome dwarf man traveling with them, sleeping not a dozen feet from Duo at night, moving just awkwardly enough when he walked to catch Duo’s eye again and again… Under normal circumstances, Duo would have flung himself at Heero’s feet, explained his problem, and begged for sex with no strings attached; but Heero’s strange behavior rendered these circumstances far from normal. How could Duo proposition someone like that? Someone with no apparent grasp of proper interaction with others? Would Heero even understand the request? It made Duo uncomfortable just thinking about it. Maybe not as uncomfortable as the hypersensitive skin of his erection grinding against his protective cup or the subsequent (eventual) pressure and pain in his testicles, but in a more meaningful way.
The group had been doing what most Quests did by taking time each morning before getting started to separate — far enough to satisfy tradition but near enough for safety — and talk to their Guides. And today, after awakening from a dream of clamping down hard on the hips of a Heero on hands and knees (a position that might be easier on him than straddling the root of a tree, which had been the previous dream), he was determined to get some answers if he could. The difficulty of keeping active fantasies about Heero out of his head while awake was great enough; visions he couldn’t control and the accompanying knowledge that he could do nothing to resolve the issue might well drive him crazy.
“Any idea what’s going on with Heero?” he demanded of Quatre, who’d gone full size to talk to him (probably to show off lir white gown with its purple embroidery and fur trim).
The gold faery looked as if le knew the motive behind Duo’s question. “None, I’m sorry to say.”
Frustrated, Duo pursued, “Any insight, even? Any useful thoughts?”
Quatre’s brows lowered and lips pursed pensively. “I have met people in the past — some faeries, some Visitors — who were very… unusual in the way they dealt with others. It seemed as if they saw the world differently from everyone else, and once you accepted that and learned their ways, it didn’t create any problems. But they all demonstrated that they felt things, in response to what was going on around them or just in their own heads. Heero doesn’t seem to feel anything… and I don’t know how much is going on in his head. I suspect he’s not like those others, and there’s actually something wrong with him.”
“Like his Curse did something to him?”
Quatre nodded. “I couldn’t say what, though.”
Duo couldn’t be contented with this, but grumbled his way into, “Thanks for that, anyway.”
“I think you’ve been very ethical in your treatment of him,” the faery said seriously.
Duo gave a bitter laugh. “Yes, thank you for that too.”
“And it’s only another few days until Yabloko.”
The dwarf nodded. “If I can survive that long.”
“You’re strong,” said Quatre with a smile. “I’m sure you can.”
Despite how open faeries were about sex, it seemed odd to be discussing, even obliquely, his intense sexual attraction to a fellow Visitor with a faery. Odd, but somewhat relieving. “Thanks,” Duo said again with a smile of his own.
Chapter 14 – Imugeme Acts As Lady’s Maid
Kaoru submerged, stretched her limbs luxuriously, and let her hair seaweed out. She couldn’t remember when she’d last been so happy to get into hot water, though she could easily foresee the next instance: cold as it was outside now, the perpetual chill in her feet would only grow as they traveled into winter, and her delight in a hot bath along with it. She sighed out some explosive bubbles, and sat up with a splash.
Once she’d pushed the streaming water off her face and hair, but hadn’t even opened her eyes yet, she heard Imugeme’s voice — full-size, by the sound — commenting from not far off, “You’re a human after my own heart.”
“Imugeme!” Kaoru protested. “I don’t need a Guide in the bath!” But, blinking her vision clear, she observed the green faery sitting cross-legged on the floor with her back to the elaborately tiled inset tub.
“I’ve never peeked at you naked,” Imugeme chuckled. “But, my dear, you really must learn to think less of these things if you’re going to get on in Faeryland.”
“Yes, I guess I better…” Because she was determined to track down that thief, Kaoru didn’t complain that she had no real desire to get on in Faeryland. She lay back, raising her knees and reaching for a bottle of hair-soap. As she worked it all through and rubbed up a lather, she sighed in contentment again despite Imugeme’s impudent presence. Then she asked, “Why am I a human after your own heart?”
“Oh, bathing is so important to so many of us,” the faery replied lightly. “It’s used in many of our rituals. It’s good to see a human taking as much pleasure in it as I do.”
“Sometimes. Most ritual magic is beyond most faeries, though. The monarchs do plenty of it, but the average person isn’t so gifted.”
“Let me rinse my hair,” Kaoru said. She slid down fully into the water again, reflecting as she did so that her Guide’s hair was so beautiful — that dark, dark green so lustrous in the light and black in the shadows — and probably, when free of its braids, longer than her own, it came as no surprise that the faery valued bathing as much as she did. For some reason, the thought made her blush, as if she were treading forbidden territory in thinking compliments about Imugeme, and she abruptly felt overheated. She hastened to finish her rinse so she could sit up again.
To dispel the strange sensation, she asked, when she could be sure of hearing the answer, “What kind of magic can the average person do?”
“We’re innately magical creatures, so a lot of what we do is magical without even thinking about it. We can change size, and travel quickly, change our bodies, put on clothing so it automatically accommodates our wings…”
“That must be convenient,” Kaoru murmured.
Imugeme gave her rolling laugh. “I can’t even begin to imagine life without it!”
Kaoru chuckled too, but then sobered. “So do you think,” she began slowly, “when the green monarch comes back from whatever she’s busy with, she’d be willing to use magic to find the faery who robbed me?”
“Probably,” said Imugeme briefly, “but listen; I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for a while. You must learn to refer to faeries correctly.”
Awkwardly Kaoru asked, “You mean ‘le’ and… all that?” She stretched out her legs again, and bent forward to touch her toes.
“That’s right.” Imugeme’s tone had a hint of severity to it. “You’ve been in Faeryland for over a month; you should be able to use these words properly.”
Kaoru, feeling appropriately chastised, swished some of the bubbles left over from her hair.
“I assume you’re going to shop after this, and ask around about your thief,” Imugeme went on when the human didn’t speak. “You’re likely to have more success if you can remember to use ‘le’ instead of ‘he’ or ‘she.’ People will think better of the Quest, too, if you don’t come across as so insensitive.”
Being or even seeming insensitive Kaoru wanted to avoid as much as she wanted more success and an improved image for the Quest. “And it’s ‘lir’ instead of ‘him’ or ‘her,’ right?”
“You see, you know the words!” The faery’s tone held both encouragement and a teasing condescension. “You just need practice using them!”
“I’ve been… nervous… about trying,” Kaoru admitted. “I’m afraid I’ll get it wrong.”
“Yes, you probably will,” Imugeme laughed. “Most Visitors do at first. But you’re in luck: you have the chance to practice on me.”
Kaoru blushed again. “You want me to sit here in the bath talking about you to your back?”
“Yes,” said Imugeme matter-of-factly.
“You look so much like a woman, though!”
Imugeme chuckled again. “And that kind of thinking is what you need to get over. I would offer to change for you, but my shoulders are a little too broad for this shirt when I put on a penis, and I’m afraid you would have just as difficult a time with seeing me naked.”
Now Kaoru really blushed. But since Imugeme was right about everything, she took a deep breath. “Imugeme,” she began haltingly — it was like practicing another language, which Kaoru had done very little of — “Le wants me to talk about her– lir behind lir back.”
The faery commended her good start.
“Le could change shape,” Kaoru went on as if reciting, “but lir shoulders are too broad for lir shirt.”
“Kaoru thinks Imugeme looks like a woman, but faeries are different. Ley have no gender like humans do. Ley have physical presentation ley change like clothing.”
“That’s not fair,” Kaoru mumbled.
“If I could have changed my gender like clothing while I was growing up… Well, everyone was always calling me a tomboy, and I know my mom wished I would be cuter and more feminine…” She didn’t exactly know what she was trying to express.
“What is a ‘tomboy?'”
“People call girls that when they think they’re not girly enough.”
“Hmm. I suppose that’s something a faery can’t understand very well.”
“I’m sure something like that happens with faeries!” She wanted Imugeme to understand, or at least to try. “Aren’t some faeries expected to be some way because they were–” she checked and amended “–because ley were born purple or pink or something? And then what if someone isn’t that way?”
The green head nodded. “Of course; you’re right; I wasn’t thinking. Green faeries are expected to be skilled at healing, and if one of lem isn’t, le’s likely to be called ‘bloody hands,’ among other things.”
Satisfied, Kaoru began rubbing scented cream into her hair. “When you’re a kid, you don’t think twice about making fun of someone because they’re not what you expect them to be. But as an adult… I don’t think it’s very nice. By the way… what word should I use to refer to a mixed group? Faeries with non-faeries?”
“Your ‘they’ and ‘them’ are acceptable coming from you. I would use ‘ley’ and ‘lem.'”
“Imugeme would use ‘ley’ and ‘lem’ because le’s a faery.”
“Kaoru is going to be an expert at talking about faeries soon!”
“Kaoru is going to rinse her hair again.”
Underwater, she considered that it would be nice if she could let go of her embarrassment about being seen, or seeing others, unclothed. She enjoyed talking to Imugeme, but there had been a slight stiffness about the entire conversation, undoubtedly arising from the faery’s being forced to keep her back turned. If they could just chat casually with none of that restraint between them, everything would be so much more comfortable. As it was, Kaoru still blushed at the thought of Imugeme turning to look at her, or ‘putting on a penis.’
When she came up for air and deemed her bath about finished, she said regretfully, “I wish I could live here.”
“In Faeryland?” Imugeme sounded startled — the first time Kaoru had heard that tone from lir.
“No! In the bath! Why is it called ‘Faeryland,’ anyway? I’ve never heard of a ‘Humanland’ or ‘Dwarfland.'”
“That’s a long story,” the faery answered somewhat gravely. “Are you getting out?”
“I better. I still need to go shopping.”
Imugeme rose and moved farther away from the edge of the bathtub. “I’ll dress your hair for you so it won’t drip down your collar so much.”
Interested, Kaoru asked as she wrung out the same, “In a faery style?”
“I’d love that.” And she reached for a towel.
Not long after, fully clothed and less inclined to blush (perhaps only because she now had to think about it less), she sat in an ornate chair in her own small inn bedroom with Imugeme behind her seeing to her hair. The cream provided in faery inns consistently made combing much easier, wet or dry, and she made a mental note to obtain a recipe before she left the country. She was glad she’d managed to reply with only limited insulting negativity to Imugeme’s suggestion that she wished she could live in Faeryland, but she had encountered one or two things here she would regret.
All over again, Kaoru was struck with the warmth and gentleness of Imugeme’s hands. Le never pulled the human’s hair uncomfortably, and when the faery’s skin brushed hers, Kaoru wanted to lean into it. And she was blushing again, once more not entirely sure why. Could Imugeme feel the growing heat of her face and neck? She used the same tactic as before to muscle through. “This kind of work isn’t really in a Guide’s job description, is it?”
Imugeme laughed. “I have many talents. I might as well use them.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Kaoru replied, somehow even more embarrassed than previously.
“I give excellent advice as well,” Imugeme added smugly.
“You’ve already done that today.”
“Yes, well, you should switch to trousers. You’ll curse your skirts once it starts snowing!”
“I guess you’re right. Again.” Kaoru tried to look down, but stopped when Imugeme tugged her head back into position by the hair. She had to sigh, though. So many customs of the human world she came from did not apply here; and, while she found nothing to complain of in people that looked like women wearing trousers, and thought she might rather enjoy it herself, she felt lost. Foreign. Which she was. Should she even be here? She’d rearranged her entire life for this, and determination still filled her, as strong as ever… but wasn’t she in a little over her head?
Imugeme, apparently finished with Kaoru’s hair, laid lir warm hands on the human’s shoulders. “My dear,” le said gently, and went on as if le’d read Kaoru’s mind, “I may not understand the expectations humans have for their different genders, but if you’re worried that wearing trousers will make you look… less womanly… I suppose all I can say is that I think you’re very beautiful, and pants won’t change that.”
Heart suddenly racing, Kaoru raised one hand to place it atop Imugeme’s. “Thank you,” she said. “That makes me feel a lot more confident.”
“You see? I have many talents.”
Kaoru blushed again, and laughed. “I better go shop and ask around while I still have time.” Her next sigh had a different sound to it than all the previous. “I feel bad using so much of Duo’s money, though.”
Imugeme’s laugh lasted longer than Kaoru’s had. “He’s been hoarding money in Faeryland for fifty years; let him do some good with it for once!”
Kaoru couldn’t help grinning. She squeezed the faery’s hand before releasing it and standing up. “The first thing I need,” she said, turning, “is a mirror, so I can see how talented Imugeme really is!”
Chapter 15 – Sword!Saitou Seeks Solace, Suffers Subjugation
The night sounded windy again, and Kaoru had earlier remarked how glad she was she’d purchased heavier clothing in the last town, so Saitou assumed the weather to be cold, even stormy. He’d never been fond of winter, and had to admit that not being forced to put up with it provided some consolation for being trapped inside, or transformed into, or whatever the specifics of the magic might be regarding his own heirloom sword.
Sano’s suggestion, when they made camp, that they all go to sleep without lighting a fire had been met with outrage from Duo and Kaoru, and the remark from Heero that sleep would more effectively rest their bodies if they were more comfortable. And when Saitou had inquired why his foolish companion wanted to avoid a fire, it had come out that Sano still believed — indeed, now more than ever — some Visitor was following them. They’d met plenty of faeries on the road, the conversations with whom Saitou had listened to with some interest, and this traffic could easily have explained Sano’s sensations, but, no, he was determined: someone was following them, and it wasn’t a faery.
This far into their journey, Saitou could no longer dismiss this intuitive conviction as offhandedly as he had before; and when Duo, who obviously knew Faeryland better than perhaps any Visitor, agreed to its possibility, Saitou retreated entirely from his previous stance. This occurred only in thought, though, since aloud he had to continue giving Sano a hard time about it. It had become unexpectedly important to argue with and harass Sano.
In Drury Crossing, this resident hooligan orc had never once failed to meet and exceed Sherrif Smith’s enthusiasm for conflict between them, had never lacked a retort to any insult Saitou chose to throw at him. But here in Faeryland, Sano responded to Saitou with greater restraint, and only during an argument could Saitou hope to draw from him anything like the fiery reactions he’d always given before. He found this troubling.
He might have believed it a good sign — that Sano was finally learning some self-control and maturity — if he hadn’t guessed it stemmed rather from guilt at Saitou’s condition that was entirely his fault. Such a feeling was natural and just, but Saitou didn’t think he liked Sano’s change in attitude toward him. For one thing, it seemed to have little effect on the orc’s general behavior — he took just as many unnecessary risks and behaved just as thoughtlessly as he ever had.
The others, to a certain extent, were able to exert some control over the foolish young man, and this effect increased gradually as the group dynamic improved. Beyond that, however, Saitou didn’t place any significant faith in the benefit of traveling in a Quest. It complicated the journey, gave them too many goals to meet, and seemed only considered a necessity because of a deep-rooted fear of being alone in Faeryland. Sano, a competent warrior (and at this time assisted by Saitou’s knowledge and skill whenever he fought with the sword), could surely make his way across this strange land with only the help of Tomoe, a competent Guide.
He thought of the demons Sano had already killed, and mentally sighed. Perhaps not.
Nights were very boring as a sleepless sword. In Drury Crossing, he’d never been bored. Even if he’d had nothing particular to do at a given moment, he’d always been able to go out looking for troublemakers to arrest — and had almost always found some. Often Sano had been involved. No, he’d never been bored at home. But now, stripped of that option as well as every other besides listening to his companions snore and thinking dreary thoughts, he felt particularly dull — which was ironic, given that he’d become a rust-resistent sword.
He could hear, as on many other nights, the quiet, distant sound of the Guides conversing. Though he knew he wasn’t supposed to, he’d managed to pick up names — Quatre, Duo’s Guide, and Trowa, Heero’s — and he sometimes caught snatches of leir talk. These had been too broken to give him much real information, but it was better than nothing. And now he decided, almost on a whim, to seek some interaction of his own.
“Tomoe,” he called. Sano gave a grunt and seemed to shift position, but Saitou didn’t think he’d awakened him or anyone else.
He didn’t need to call again. Immediately a fluttering of wings like a large moth met Saitou’s nonexistent ears, and Tomoe’s quiet voice greeted him. “Yes?”
Saitou didn’t waste time with small talk. “Realistically, what are the chances of getting this Curse broken?”
Le sounded sympathetic as le answered. “Curses happen all the time. Visitors usually deal with them without too much trouble.”
“If this is not much trouble,” Saitou replied dryly, “I’d hate to see what you would consider a lot of trouble.”
Tomoe hesitated, then said, “I suppose you’re right. But the first Visitor I made a pact with, just over a year ago, had a much harder time. He was a troll who was Cursed when he convinced a group of his friends to refuse some needed assistance to a black faery at their local Grove.”
“In other words, he was behaving like a troll,” Saitou put in.
With a brief, regretful laugh, Tomoe agreed. “He was ugly to begin with — though I suppose I don’t know what makes a troll beautiful — but his Curse made him look like one of the Distorted, which to faeries is even worse.” Le sighed. “It was particularly difficult for him to navigate Faeryland.”
“I can certainly see how that would be the case.”
“When we reached the black enclave, Robin told him that to break the Curse, he needed to fall in love with a black faery and earn lir love in return.”
“That is a horrifying abuse of power.”
Again the faery hesitated. “Yes,” le said at last, “yes, I suppose it is. But that’s not all. The troll’s friends, who had gone along with his unkindness to the Glade Ambassador, were Cursed too. They were transformed like you, but into household items, knick-knacks and whatnots. He had to carry them with him, and was responsible for breaking the Curse for all of them. They all bickered constantly… You and Sano remind me a little of that situation, though in their case I had everything explained to me from the beginning.”
Saitou chose not to comment on that aspect of the story. “What was the outcome?”
Tomoe sighed again. “He fell into despair, and lost all hope, and didn’t believe any faery could ever learn to love a Distorted. He dissolved our pact and sent me away. As far as I know, he’s still living in Gulaš, the city outside the black enclave.”
“So a faery monarch placed an unreasonable Curse on an entire group of people,” the sword summarized, “then demanded an unreasonable task to break it, destroying the lives of everyone involved and making it impossible for you to do your job properly.”
“The deplorable state of relations between faeries and non-faeries is the most horrifying part of all this.”
Now the faery sounded pensive and distant. “The Rainbow Accession was almost 500 years ago… I think the monarchs take more liberties now than they did then.”
“What was laid out in that treaty beyond preventing the borders of Faeryland from expanding?”
“The monarchs maintain the border, and don’t leave Faeryland. Any common faery that leaves Faeryland is limited to lir animal form, except in the Groves.”
“And what did the non-faeries provide in exchange?”
“I don’t know. That’s all I can remember.”
“In any case, it’s clear the monarchs’ magic reaches out through the Groves to affect the non-faery world, in a way the Accession certainly never had in mind. We’ve all taken for granted the way we interact with faeries, and you faeries have probably done the same regarding us… but the truth is it needs to change.”
“You may be right,” le granted. “That and other things…” Le didn’t sound particularly hopeful.
“And if I have some plan for changing things,” Saitou interpreted, “you’d love to hear it.”
“We should focus on getting your Curse broken first.”
Saitou took this to mean that Tomoe’s job was to help with that goal, not work toward large-scale sociopolitical reform, and le would rather get on with that. All along, since they’d met, le’d seemed distant and largely professional, and Saitou doubted this conversation would make much difference. “Thank you for the information,” he said formally. “I’ll let you get back to the other Guides.”
“Good night,” le bade him, and evidently flew off, leaving Saitou with thoughts, if not less dreary than before, at least more extensive.
Chapter 16 – Heero Computes
When next he had the opportunity to shop at an organized market, such as in a town like Gulaš that the party drew ever nearer to, Heero planned to find or devise some more effective method of keeping his left boot pointed the correct direction as he walked. Initially, his peg leg had been wedged so tightly into the twisted cloth he’d stuffed the boot with that they’d acted perfectly in concert. But lately, especially as the group entered the more hilly country that promised mountains ahead, the boot had begun to rotate gradually and require adjustment more and more frequently. To go over once again the logic behind wearing the boot instead of stowing it in his backpack he didn’t consider a worthwhile use of his time, so he would continue as he had begun.
He would neither enter Gulaš alongside his current companions nor repair his pedestrian system immediately, however. As the road had turned more distinctly southwest, heading for the town outside the black enclave, Heero’s perception of his next destination had increased; he knew with growing certainty as the sense sharpened that at a certain point, most likely before they reached Gulaš, he would need to break away from the others and move directly south.
So far his original theories concerning traveling with these companions had all proven true: logic continued to suggest he was safer in a group from the dangers of meeting with distorted or once again inadvertently intruding upon a faery gathering, and the lack of any such encounters affirmed that suggestion; Trowa had expressed himself as feeling freer to see to his other tasks now that Heero’s party included other Guides; and the emotionality of his fellow Visitors had indeed become a source of mental weariness for the dwarf constantly attempting to read and categorize it.
Sano the orc had great physical strength — more even than was promised by his tall, wiry frame — and could run faster than any of the others. These must be considered beneficial field skills. Unfamiliar with the minutiae of combative systems as he was, Heero could not judge precisely how good Sano was with his sword, but to an untrained eye he certainly appeared to have talent in that area as well. The risk of being harmed or killed by distorted as they traveled seemed lessened by such a circumstance.
Yet Sano clearly dedicated the greater proportion of his mental energy to the idea of reaching the black enclave and learning how to break the Curse on Saitou. A drive toward completing a goal was a desirable quality, but Heero believed the better term in Sano’s case to be ‘single-mindedness’ — and whether it was this or some other personal attribute that caused Sano to forego thinking through his actions before he took them, thereby making illogical decisions that might bring harm upon the party, the dwarf didn’t know.
Saitou the sword often had the most rational ideas of all of them, and Heero appreciated his logic and calmness. These were not infrequently compromised, however, by his emotional interactions with Sano. Heero could not read the emotion between them, but there clearly was a lot of… emotion… between them. It affected Sano’s behavior negatively as often as Saitou’s logic affected it positively, making the sword less of a voice of reason than he could have been.
Kaoru the human also struggled to check the hot-headedness of her companions (Sano and Duo, mostly, though she tried to exercise some restraint on the more emotional of the interactions between the orc and his sword), and had certain leadership qualities that helped her in so doing. But she was also young and naive, and appeared to base her behavior on the normalcy of a life she no longer led.
She seemed to believe in the strength of community, of traditional relationships. She always attempted to include Heero in discussions that he had no reason to join, and to learn more about him with polite questions… but circumstances had changed for her as they had for him, and her efforts at knitting the group more tightly together, though perhaps not ill-advised, might prove an inconvenience.
Duo the Ghabak’nik dwarf knew very well how to get along in Faeryland, and that knowledge was useful and would undoubtedly continue to be. Heero gaged him the most functional of the group, the one Heero had done best to travel with. But he… he had emotional moods. His reactions to Heero varied inexplicably between the negative one Heero had become accustomed to and something that seemed much more positive yet always restrained. He sparred with Sano, which encompassed sparring with Saitou too, in a way, and exchanged negative remarks with the orc that did not cause a negative reaction in most instances. He always made allowances for Kaoru’s lesser strength and endurance, but didn’t appear to agree with her policy of drawing each member of the group closer to each other. Heero didn’t know how to assess Duo.
The Onkoltuk dwarf had been with these incomprehensible comrades for twenty-five days, coming to understand them very little better than he had at first and not certain he needed to, when they drew near Gulaš in the foothills. Signs of greater habitation greeted them: faery buildings in the full size, fences, walls, and a larger amount of traffic on the road. The latter turned sharply to the west, and they could see the town before them and the mountains beyond.
Heero came to a halt. The others didn’t notice for a moment; Kaoru was, as she often did, requesting repeatedly that Sano tell them the details of the event that had resulted in Saitou’s transformation into a sword, Sano resisting with varying emotional reactions, and Saitou hinting at what he called ‘phenomenal stupidity’ in the affair. But Duo, who most frequently looked at each member of the party — to assess their current status, the other dwarf believed — glanced in Heero’s direction and also stopped.
“I will leave you now,” Heero said. “The next item I need to find is farther south.”
Duo reacted negatively, and took a step toward Heero. “Is that safe? I could–” He glanced at Sano and Kaoru, who had paused and looked back when they heard the dialogue begin. “We could work something out so I could go with you.”
It might not be safe, with Trowa away again. However, “That’s not necessary,” replied Heero. “I may return to Gulaš after finding it. If you are still here, I will join you again, if I am welcome.”
Kaoru came closer and said, before Duo could speak, “Of course you’re welcome, Heero! There’s no reason not to stick together, is there?”
“And what if you don’t come to Gulaš?” Duo appeared to ignore Kaoru’s words. “What if we’re not still here?”
“Then our association will end.” This seemed self-evident, but some emotion in Duo’s bearing implied the question had still required asking. As usual, Heero knew not how to respond when he couldn’t parse the details. He searched for words, and came up with, “I appreciate the additional security traveling with you has provided.”
Another negative reaction. Duo also didn’t seem to know what to say. Perhaps it was better, despite all of Heero’s logical conclusions, not to remain near someone with whom he could not effectively communicate.
Heero turned and began walking away, toward the edge of the road to the south.
“Um, bye, then,” Sano called after him. It didn’t sound entirely positive.
“Good luck!” Kaoru added. It didn’t sound entirely certain. “Come find us later!”
Duo offered nothing, which was all the same to Heero.
Chapter 17 – Sano Gets A Turn To Be Naked
Sano still thought Heero’s unceremonious manner of leaving them yesterday had been a jerk move, but it wasn’t as if he missed him, particularly. It just might have been nice to have him present for the debate at the inn where they’d rented rooms. Heero obviously prioritized the purpose of his journey over things like traditional courtesy, and probably wouldn’t have argued against Sano’s desire to make his way to the black enclave immediately he dropped his backpack off.
But the others had insisted: evening, which had overtaken them by the time they’d made their overnight arrangements, was too late to barge in on a faery monarch; there was, after all, such a thing as ‘visiting hours’ (which Sano had never heard of and rather believed they’d just invented). He needed to make a good impression, they’d told him (‘the least terrible impression you possibly can,’ was how Saitou had worded it), so showing up at a more appropriate time of day was imperative.
Duo had given up early on what he called ‘trying to prevent the d’orc getting himself turned into a scabbard to match that sword,’ and gone to his room; but Kaoru and Saitou had kept at it until they’d bullied Sano into their point of view. It had occurred to the orc that neither of them could physically restrain him if he decided to do what he wanted, but in the end the guilty feeling that Saitou should really have a say in the matter had swayed him.
But now! Now, mid-morning the day after arriving in Gulaš, Sano more or less followed the directions of some of the local faeries in search of the black enclave and a solution to the problem he had more or less caused. Well aware that this walk of shame could be incredibly awkward whether Saitou said anything or not (and the sword hadn’t spoken since giving some sarcastic comment in response to Kaoru’s wish of good luck over breakfast), Sano sought to mitigate the embarrassment by singing a song from home.
Ain’t any hatchets in the tree.
Let’s cut it down, and then we’ll see
How many it takes before it falls.
How many hatchets are there in all?
Just one hatchet in the tree.
Let’s cut it down, and then we’ll see
How many it takes before it falls.
How many hatchets are there in all?
Just two hatchets in the tree.
Let’s cut it down, and then we’ll see
How many it takes before it falls.
How many hatchets are there in all?
Just three hatchets in the tree…
The Drury Crossing humans claimed this was an orc song, but orcs didn’t go in much for torturing trees. The Drury Crossing orcs believed it to be dwarven in origin, which the dwarves, who had little truck with axe-blades smaller than two (dwarf) hands across, vehemently denied. It must have come from the trolls, they said; only trolls would think of an endless, obnoxious, repetitive song about the destruction of wildlife.
Sano was personally certain it had to be a human song. Not only were they the most inclined to cut down trees left and right, they also came up with a lot of clever lyrics like that. A ‘hatchet’ was a local drink, and seeing how many the singers could take before they fell had always tickled Sano.
So he made his would-be-casual way past shops and houses and whatnot, past faeries that often laughed at him and his barroom vocalizations, and all the way down a long slope toward a great square arch of black stone that led into the side of a high ridge at the bottom. When he felt what must be Tomoe pulling at his ear just as the road leveled out not far from the open gates in the arch, he stopped singing and paused. Before the Guide could say anything, though, Saitou remarked, “I used to arrest people for singing that song.”
“Only when they got up past twenty,” Sano recalled with a grin.
“This is as far as I can go with you.” Tomoe sounded a little impatient.
“Oh, yeah.” Of course le was a pink faery, and thus couldn’t enter the black enclave.
“I’ll be running an errand. It may last a few weeks, but I’ll find you wherever you are when I return.”
“Oh.” Sano stared at lir figure hovering in the air in front of him, startled. “All right, I guess.”
Le waited a moment, as if expecting more of him, then said, “Until then,” and darted away.
Irritably Saitou asked, “You weren’t even a little bit curious what le’s doing?”
“Well… I mean… yeah, but… I really want to get in to talk to the black faery person.”
“You need to pay better attention to the people around you. Listen to Kaoru for once and invest in some teamwork.”
“What do you know about teamwork,” Sano grumbled, “mister lone Head Sheriff?”
“Do you seek entrance?” asked a black faery standing guard at the gates, appearing slightly confused by the exchange le hadn’t been able to help hearing.
“Yeah. I need to talk to Robin about a Curse,” the orc admitted, leaning perhaps closer than he should and lowering his tone as if someone might overhear.
The guard merely nodded and lifted the spear that had only been symbolically blocking the way. Sano noticed as le did so the finely wrought metal vines twining around this weapon from one end to the other, and the pattern of grapes and leaves etched into the curiously shaped blade. How elaborate, for a mere gate-guard!
The latter advised him to wait in the antechamber, where someone would come to escort him farther. Sano, thanking lir and stepping, to the sound of a distant bell, into the small room off the main passage leading down from the entrance, swore to himself, or perhaps to Saitou, as he looked around.
“What now?” the sword wondered.
“This place…” Sano shook his head. “There’s carvings all over, and these really nice-looking tapestries, and… and this is just the antechamber!”
“You’ve mentioned there are carvings all over Faeryland.”
“But these aren’t just curly-cues or whatever; these are carvings of shit, and they’re perfect… and it’s still just the antechamber!”
“It is the home of a monarch,” Saitou reminded him. Much more quietly he added, “Even if le’s an inhumane brute, le probably appreciates the finer things in life.”
Sano squirmed a little, averse to considering why Saitou felt strongly enough to go so far in a place where such words could get him into trouble. Footsteps approached up the descending hallway, anyway, so he concentrated on those instead.
The black faery that appeared had curly hair straggling artfully across a smooth, beautiful face, and moved with something like the grace of a warrior. Le gave a bow that would have seemed extravagant had its motion been less intriguing in its effortlessness and finesse. “My name is Michael,” le said in the softest, gentlest voice Sano had yet heard from a faery. “Do you need to see Robin?”
“That’s right.” Sano felt especially embarrassed — awkward, clumsy, grunting, oversized — in the presence of this smooth stranger. “It’s about a Curse.”
“Of course,” Michael nodded. “Le isn’t accepting petitions right now while we all get ready for the dance exhibition in five days; but you’re welcome to stay in one of the guest rooms until then. In this place, you’ll feel there’s no hurt or sorrow!” Le gave a brilliant, almost childlike smile. “Then you can watch me dance, and afterward talk to the monarch. Will you be there?”
A dancer, yes; that was it. “Kinda weird they’ve got you on door duty if you’re gonna be in this big show,” Sano couldn’t help remarking.
“That’s the reason I’m greeting guests!” Michael said with another smile. “To convince lem to stay or come back for the exhibition! I can’t let lem get away!”
“Yeah, I guess I can see that,” Sano allowed. What he couldn’t quite see was whether he should accept the offer of a guest room here at the enclave, or return to his friends at the inn and wait out the five days there. One option seemed likely to provide more beer than the other, but at his own expense. He wouldn’t have to pay Tomoe for the next couple of weeks, it appeared, but he was still running through his funds awfully fast, and he wasn’t the type to stop ’til he got enough. Room and board (he assumed it would be ‘and board’) sounded like an excellent deal while he had the opportunity. But beer…
“We’ll take your offer,” Saitou said, sounding impatient and probably guessing at the debate in Sano’s head.
Michael gave that startled look even a graceful faery dancer, apparently, couldn’t avoid when hearing Saitou speak for the first time. “Is that… who is it?” le wondered.
“I’m the sword,” Saitou replied shortly, his harsh tone a striking contrast with Michael’s. “I’m the one Cursed.”
“Don’t you worry, my friend,” the faery nodded. “I’ll take care of you. You’re both welcome. If you’ll follow me…”
As they left the antechamber and started making funky tracks down a long sloping passage just as beautifully decorated as the room, Sano let Michael draw ahead of them somewhat. “You didn’t have to just jump in and answer for me, you know!” he hissed at Saitou. “I was thinking about it!” The former human gave him fever like he’d never, ever known, and he already ran pretty hot.
“Your decisions on this journey thus far haven’t left me with a lot of confidence. You were probably going to base this one on where you could get beer.”
“I’m telling you: just watch your mouth!” Why should the truth from Saitou hurt like that? Damned indecision and cursed pride… it cut like a knife. Saitou’s being a sword was very appropriate. Sano might even have said so, but he hated making references to Saitou’s current state aloud. A state that truly was Sano’s fault, and… was actually referenced by mentioning the mouth Saitou didn’t have. He hurried to catch up with Michael again.
The guest room absolutely turned out to be the better choice, which meant Saitou had been right, as usual. Sano gaped around at the opulence and magnificence, the beauty and the taste, with which the place was furnished, and felt his head spinning. “It’s… this place is crazy,” he whispered.
“Why?” Saitou and he were alone for the moment, though Michael had promised, before heading back to where le’d evidently been running through lir dance routine while listening for the bell, to send a servant to see to their needs.
“This is just a guest room?” Sano’s entire body spun now as he tried to take it all in. “This is the impaling most expensive-looking place I’ve ever been in. There’s nothing like this in Drury impaling Crossing.”
“Too good for you, eh?”
“And you.” Sano didn’t even bother to get angry. “I don’t think you’ve ever seen anything like this either, Sheriff.”
Saitou merely snorted (somehow). Sano felt another little stab at realizing he’d been talking about visuals the other man couldn’t view for himself, and not even bothering to describe them in any kind of detail. Should he start belatedly describing now? But what if Saitou’s Curse got broken in five days? Then he could see everything himself, and get the full impact the way Sano had. But what if it didn’t?
Eventually Sano decided to keep his mouth shut. Maybe he was bad at decisions, and this was another wrong one, but at least this way he wouldn’t shove his foot in there any further.
The promised servant eventually appeared: another black faery, this one with a shy but pleasant face partially covered by a fall of shining black hair. Le introduced lirself as Nathaniel, a chamberaide, and asked what le could bring Sano to help him settle in.
Sano had opened his mouth to inquire about beer when Saitou once again spoke for him. “We weren’t expecting such hospitality.” It sounded — though perhaps only to Sano, who knew him — as if he could barely contain his sarcasm. “This orc has a room at an inn in town, where he left his backpack. If a messenger could be sent…”
“Oh, of course,” Nathaniel replied, not even blinking at the voice from the sword — Michael must have warned lir. “If you’ll tell me which inn and what you’d like the message to say, I’ll send someone right away.”
Seething at being treated like a child, and at this advisable step’s not having occurred to him, Sano couldn’t think of any words for the message. It didn’t matter; Saitou was on top of it. He remembered the name of the inn better than Sano did anyway, and included an alert to their comrades of their new situation.
Nathaniel repeated the message back, then said, “I’ll find someone to go, and then I’ll return. You’ll be wanting a bath, of course; I’ll draw you one and attend you.” And le had gone before Sano’s reaction had shifted from angry at Saitou to baffled at the faery’s last statement.
“A bath…?” he said toward the door as it latched. “Why would I…”
“Sano,” said Saitou flatly. “When was the last time you had one?”
More days than Sano could count abruptly stretched away in front of his mental eyes to a distant point, where they vanished. “Uh…”
“And even if le didn’t smell you, le said you’ll want a bath as if that could be taken for granted. Faeries do seem to have some kind of fixation with bathing. You’d better take lir up on the offer; it might be considered an offense if you don’t. Remember your good impression.”
“At least you’re advising me this time instead of just accepting the offer for me.”
Saitou made a sort of sniffing noise that Sano couldn’t quite define since no nose existed for it to have come from.
The orc shrugged and turned inward toward the opulent room again. “Well, not like it’ll hurt. Unless faeries have as weird a idea about baths as they do about everything else.” He gazed at the different sections of the chamber and its furnishings more carefully. But he found he still couldn’t pinpoint what a lot of it was for; so much just seemed so superfluous. Therefore he ended up tossing everything he wore on the floor near the curtained dais on which the bed stood, and wandering naked, sword in hand, in search of the bathtub.
“There is… no bathtub in here,” he said at last.
“There must be a separate bathroom,” Saitou suggested, sounding bored.
“Well, I found a big alcove full of black towels and shit where it kinda looks like there should be a bathtub…”
“Hm,” was all Saitou offered.
Eventually Sano started tossing towels on the hard floor of what looked like the bathroom, until he’d built up a decent pile of them, onto which he flopped and which he rearranged at his head for a pillow. He lay the sword down beside him and closed his eyes. And it was in this position Nathaniel found him not too long afterward. The faery caught lir breath when le saw him, which startled Sano into looking. He couldn’t quite make out the expression on his attendant’s face, for the latter had bowed slightly as if in embarrassment. This made Sano’s face heat up, and it was a struggle not to scowl, because what if Nathaniel considered him sexually attractive or something like that?
“You found the towels,” le mumbled.
“Uh, yeah. Couldn’t find the bathtub, though!” Sano scratched his head and turned it away, not wanting to meet Nathaniel’s eye. He should have wrapped a towel around himself.
In a gentle tone the faery reminded him, “I said I’d draw you a bath. It won’t be there until I draw it.”
“Oh, I…” Sano’s gaze went back to Nathaniel in surprise. “I didn’t think that was, um, literal.”
Nathaniel smiled shyly, and lifted both arms into position to show Sano the pencil in one hand and the rectangle of wood or something, presumably holding paper, attached to the other forearm.
“Oh, what!” Sano jumped up and, scrambling, seized the sword and started grabbing towels and shoving them back onto the shelves they’d come from. “This I gotta see!”
“You were nearly right about the spot,” Nathaniel told him, lir tone now a mixture of bashfulness and enthusiasm. As le watched Sano kick the last towels away from the center of the black marble that covered the area, le advised, “Stand clear,” and set pencil to paper.
“Holy shit!” Sano too now sounded enthusiastic. “That’s impaling awesome!”
How Nathaniel reacted the orc couldn’t tell, so fixed were his eyes on the marble. And eventually he realized what he should be doing. “Saitou, le’s drawing on some thing on lir arm, and the bath is… there. It just appeared in the floor like… like magic!”
“Which it is,” Saitou replied. He sounded a touch less dark than usual, though — interested, maybe — as if perhaps he appreciated having the scene described. Sano really should have been doing that all along.
“And the water’s steaming. This is totally badass! It looks like the real thing…” He finally raised his eyes to Nathaniel, who appeared sheepish at the orc’s energy. “Is it done? Can I touch it?”
“Are you asking permission?” Saitou wondered, quiet and surprised.
“Yes, the bath is ready,” Nathaniel said, half over the sword’s question. “Feel free to step in.”
Observing the depth the stairs led down to, Sano jumped instead of stepping. Water sloshed over the sides and across the floor, knocking over or carrying away some bottles that had been lined up on one end of the square pool. This was definitely the real thing. Sano scrunched into a ball at the bottom, feeling how much greater the sword’s weight became when submerged, unable to make out the individual words Saitou spoke so disdainfully down there, then stood straight to find himself comfortable in hot chest-deep liquid.
“Seriously impaling amazing,” he said, and set the sword down on the edge.
“Thank you,” murmured Nathaniel.
Sano swished around for a moment, enjoying more than he had expected just being in the hot water. Faeries were strange about so many things; but this thing might not be so bad, as long as Nathaniel didn’t try anything funny. He’d already, Sano noticed, erased all the water that had splashed out initially, and added a sort of wooden tray or rack beneath the sword so it no longer lay directly on the floor. Of course the sword was rust-proof, but that had still been a savvy thought.
Seats lined one side of the tub at varying levels, depending on where you wanted the water to hit you, and at first Sano used the deepest. The water hadn’t ceased its sloshing motion, however, and kept slapping him in the face, which at first made him laugh, but then started to annoy him; so he moved to the next seat up.
“You’ll have to excuse him,” Saitou said, dry as Sano was wet. “He’s not very good at bathing.”
This seat put the water right at nipple-level, and every low tide when the cooler air of the room hit them, they’d stand out more, which was irritating. So Sano moved to the third seat.
“Oh, actually…” Nathaniel’s voice sounded now excessively shy and reluctant. What did le hesitate to say? Sano didn’t relish having to shoot down this faery’s hopes. He shouldn’t have gotten on this third seat; it seemed designed for actual bathing — putting soap on yourself or whatever before getting deeper into the water again to rinse off — and displayed just about everything above his thighs. Or had it been designed by Nathaniel to do exactly that?
“I haven’t had the chance to work with many orcs,” Nathaniel went on awkwardly. “And you’re…” Le cleared lir throat. “The shape of your body is so interesting… very picturesque… I was wondering if you…”
Sano took a deep breath in preparation for attempting to be tactful, something he’d never been very good at.
“Would you mind if I drew some sketches of you?”
Sano’s breath whistled out around his tusks. “If you… what?”
“What were you expecting lir to say?” Saitou wondered.
“No, there was water in my ears,” Sano hastened to lie. “I didn’t catch the end of that.”
“IsitallrightifIdrawyou?” Nathaniel said all at once; clearly lir embarrassment about asking had only increased with the slight delay.
“Oh.” The orc found himself blushing just as the faery probably was; and a very Saitou-like voice in his head remonstrated with very Sano-like diction, Just because most people around you are into that shit doesn’t mean random faeries are gonna come onto you. “Oh,” he repeated. “Yeah, sure,” he finally managed. “I mean, what happens when you draw something that’s already here?”
“I use different paper for sketches like that.” Nathaniel was half whispering now, seemingly aware le’d made this awkward for both lirself and Sano.
“Well, I guess that’s fine…” Sano still couldn’t bring himself to face either the faery or the sword at the side of the bath, despite understanding the situation better now. Some discomfort — or prospective discomfort — yet remained, and forced him to add, “…as long as you don’t make me look sexy.”
Sounding amused and sardonic, Saitou said, “Oh, you’ve got nothing to worry about there.”
Sano gave a protesting grunt. He didn’t like the thought of being drawn like one of those French girls, but he also didn’t like the idea that he wasn’t generally good-looking, which Saitou, of course, had implied.
What was his surprise, then, to hear the relenting tone in the former human’s voice as he said, “But you are a fine specimen, if I remember correctly. For an orc.” No, it wasn’t so much the tone that surprised him, since that still carried a decent amount of insult; it was how much Sano found himself mollified and cheered by the concession.
Chapter 18 – Monarchs’ Misbehavior Makes Maiden Mad
It seemed Duo had, once again, led them to the cheapest inn in town. Kaoru, though approving the economy, couldn’t avoid some jealousy of Sano staying at the black enclave, for she assumed the accommodations there to be far superior to these.
The common room was more crowded than she’d expected at breakfast time, almost packed with both small-size and full-size faeries. Instead of on a layer at the top of the chamber as she’d seen in two different inns so far, the small-size tables here were arranged on what would otherwise look like shelves on the walls. No, in fact they did look like shelves, and the faeries on them, had ley been motionless, would have looked like exquisite dolls making use of minutely carved doll furniture. Kaoru would never say it aloud, though.
No fewer than three other Visitors sat at a couple of the full-size tables as well, and Kaoru itched to get up and talk to them. But Duo kept casting a dark eye (and no one, it turned out, could show silent disapproval like a dwarf) across their table every time she glanced around and shifted in her seat.
“Look,” he said reprovingly once they’d both ordered breakfast, “I know at least two of them live here. They’re not going to want to join the Quest.”
“But the other one, that orc–”
“All members of the Quest have to agree on these things. You’re not really going to invite some complete stranger to join us when Sano, Saitou, and Heero are gone, are you?”
Kaoru frowned. “Heero…” She shook her head and sighed. “He never really seemed like he wanted to be one of us. He never tried to make friends, or opened up about his Curse, or anything. I tried so hard, but… I think he was only with us for a while because we were convenient.”
Duo echoed her sigh and propped a somewhat grouchy face on a balled hand. “I know. I really wanted to figure him out, but…” He threw his other hand into the air and wiggled it dramatically. “Off he goes without any warning to look for his stuff that he won’t even talk to us about!”
Kaoru nodded, and wondered regretfully, “Do you think I was too pushy, trying to be friends with him?”
“Maybe. Another very good reason not to go spewing your friendship all over some random orc.”
“Well, excuse me for trying to improve the Quest’s cooperation!” Kaoru huffed.
Duo closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair, and let out an even longer sigh. “All right, all right. It’s… actually a pretty good thing you’re doing. It may be annoying at times, but I also think you’re the one holding us together. At least you’re the one who manages to restrain Sano.”
“I can’t take credit for that,” Kaoru said ruefully. “Saitou can get him to… well, ‘calm down’ isn’t the right way to put it, but…”
“Make slightly better choices,” Duo suggested.
“When he’s not drunk.” Duo cracked an eyelid to look at her, and they both laughed.
“I have a question,” the human said next. She glanced around and lowered her voice, unsure if this might not get them in trouble. “Why do people have to visit one of the monarchs to find out how to break their Curse? Why doesn’t the monarch just tell them what le wants when le Curses them?”
Duo sat up straight again. “Oh, here comes our food,” he said overloudly. Then he and Kaoru both sat in silence while the faery server laid out their dishes, and thanked lir politely when that process was finished. Then he scooted his chair closer to the table and appeared to give all his attention to his breakfast.
Kaoru was about to ask again when he said quietly, “As far as I can tell, the faery monarchs don’t even realize it most of the time when ley Curse people. If there’s a Glade nearby and a non-faery does something that would offend a monarch, the magic seems to reach out automatically. So then it has to be brought to leir attention. You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve seen a monarch surprised at what lir own magic has done.”
It wasn’t Kaoru’s first moment of outrage during the journey, but this anger struck a deeper nerve than before. “That isn’t right,” she hissed. “It’s not fair. It’s no way to treat people!”
“You’d better be glad, then,” Duo remarked, raising a skewer of sausage and black vegetables and waving it a bit, “that the monarchs aren’t allowed to leave Faeryland.”
“Why? Besides that then they’d probably be Cursing people on purpose?”
“It’s leir presence in Faeryland that maintains the boundaries. If ley didn’t do that, Faeryland would expand and expand and eventually cover the entire continent.”
Kaoru shuddered, and looked down at her own plate. “The monarchs should still be nicer, though,” she mumbled, and picked up one of her own skewers.
Duo, mouth full, just shrugged.
As they ate at the leisurely pace their current idleness justified, they watched the room empty. Quite a few people rose and departed simultaneously, as if all headed to various jobs that began around the same hour of the day, and Kaoru guessed they made a habit of eating here before work. The food did taste better than the general untidiness of the inn had promised, and that would account for the morning crowd.
When the orc stood, Kaoru restrained herself from jumping up to talk to him. She’d decided to take Duo’s advice in this. He’d been right, after all, about not making changes to the Quest in the absence of half the Quest. Beyond that, she knew him to be upset and embarrassed about having been Cursed for the first time after fifty years living here; she figured he wanted to share that with no more people than he had to. She did regret the possibility of adding to their numbers, though.
She found Duo looking at her suspiciously when she dragged her gaze away from the stranger and back to the table, the empty dishes, and him. She raised both hands as if in surrender and said, “I’m not going to talk to him. But I do need to get out into town and ask about the green faery who robbed me.” And when he appeared not entirely to believe her she added, mostly to pursue the changed subject, “I know all the right words now. I can describe lir and ask the local faeries if ley’ve seen lir.”
“I noticed you getting better at that!” Duo said approvingly. “I was starting to think I’d have to talk to you about it, but then it seemed like you’d suddenly had a lesson.”
Why Kaoru should blush at the reminder of that ‘lesson,’ she didn’t know. It wasn’t as if Duo knew she’d been naked at the time. “I just want to make sure you’ll be all right if I leave you,” she said hastily, “or if you’re likely to get lost.”
Duo blinked, then gave her a crooked smile. “Güb’zabr’k, you’re too nice! None of the others would have checked.” And this wording suggested that, despite what he’d said earlier, he still considered Heero part of the Quest.
“I’m just being practical.”
“Yeah, yeah, you always say that. But I should be fine. I do have a Guide.”
“Oh, of course,” Kaoru said, feeling foolish as she remembered. “Well, then–” pushing her chair out and standing– “I’ll see you sometime later.”
“I’ll be here! Oh, but if I’m asleep in my room when you get back, don’t worry about me.”
She nodded, pulled her cloak from the back of the chair, and headed out of the inn.
As she walked the black-paved streets of Gulaš looking for any kind of open market, she really expected Imugeme to tease her about forgetting that someone else in the party had a Guide. But the faery must not have been listening in, for le began the conversation with, “Out to look for your thief again, are you?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Kaoru replied in dismayed exasperation. “Nobody has even heard of lir this whole time. I feel like this Quest is falling apart.”
“Well, Duo doesn’t want anyone else to join, I guess, and thinks I’m too nice. Heero just left, proving he didn’t care about any of us (in case any of us were wondering). Sano’s probably making a fool of himself in the black enclave, and he’ll come back out with a Curse of his own, which will leave Saitou hanging…”
Imugeme, who had settled onto Kaoru’s shoulder, laughed. “That doesn’t seem at all unlikely.”
“I should have gone in with him,” Kaoru lamented. “It wasn’t very good teamwork to let him go alone.” She looked both ways down a cross-street, trying to determine which direction to take.
“If it’s any consolation,” said Imugeme, “you wouldn’t have been able to get in, because you’re under a green Protection.”
Kaoru had chosen to go left, but paused mid-stride and tried to look at the faery sitting beside her ear. “Wait, why?”
With a sigh, Imugeme explained. “With the monarchs refusing to cooperate the way ley are, no one with a Protection from one can enter the enclave of another.”
“That would have been nice to know when you offered!”
“I’m sorry for not warning you, my dear, but it is better to have it than otherwise. Haven’t you noticed that you’ve never hurt yourself while journeying?”
Kaoru, relenting, acknowledged the truth in this. Careful to encompass Imugeme, she pulled up the hood of her cloak against the cold day and started again down the street she’d chosen. “It’s good to know there are some faeries who have some consideration for Visitors.”
“What do you mean?” Imugeme asked cautiously.
“It’s probably better if I don’t say it to you.”
The Guide sounded as uncomfortable as Kaoru had yet heard lir as le said, “Conditions in Faeryland are… not ideal at the moment. Any complaints you have about faeries I promise to keep between us.”
This seemed to confirm what the human had believed all along — that Imugeme was just as unhappy about the quarreling monarchs as anyone could be. So she began summarizing what Duo had told her about monarchs and Curses, and, more importantly, how horrified she was to have heard it.
Chapter 19 – Robin Is An Obvious Self-Insert
Sano bathed every evening while waiting for the dance exhibition and a chance to talk to the black faery monarch. He remarked that it seemed really weird to do so, but after a couple of days admitted it wasn’t too bad. Saitou hoped his subsequent comment (that maybe there was hope for Sano yet) would rouse the orc’s perversity and maybe start an argument, but it had no such effect. Saitou wondered about this, but you couldn’t ask someone why something you said hadn’t annoyed them.
Sano had also found a bar in the enclave. From his description, it was an upscale place that primarily sold little mixed drinks, but apparently alcohol was alcohol, and some of them were interesting to try — it just took longer to get plastered. Saitou didn’t have a head to shake, but he hoped his tone conveyed his attitude about this.
They met some black faeries at the bar and elsewhere, and it seemed Sano wasn’t nearly as reluctant to introduce Saitou here as he had been outside. He did have to establish their cause, after all. Saitou believed, by the end of the five days, they were well enough known around here to have achieved that.
Black faeries, it turned out, were mostly if not all the artistic type. This, Saitou believed, explained the elaborate carvings Sano described, the tasteful decorations (at least the orc’s dubious interpretation of ‘tasteful’), the dance exhibition being so important that Robin would put off all business concerns until after it ended, and a chamberaide using magical drawing to see to Sano’s basic needs. Saitou remembered Duo remarking that the black faery monarch liked to make things, and worried a bit about what le would demand of him or of Sano to lift the Curse.
When exhibition time came, Sano said nothing as he moved through or along with a noisy crowd. But after that he started narrating. “This place is huge. It’s an arena, I guess, kinda oval-shaped, with seats all up almost to the ceiling. There’s way more black faeries in here than we’ve met so far.”
“If the entire community lives here underground, that makes sense. What else?”
“The floor down there’s gotta be more than 100 yards wide, and it’s all green grass.”
“It must be fake grass, underground.”
“Right. There’s all sorts of white lines and numbers on the grass, and there’s these weird Y-shaped tall things at either end with nets behind them?”
This description baffled Saitou, but he didn’t admit it aloud.
“Ley’ve got a platform set up in the middle, I guess for people to dance on. Oh, and there’s all these blue and orange banners on the wall around the floor, underneath the lowest seats. We’re sitting about halfway up the seats and right at the line that says ’20’ with a little arrow pointing left.”
“Are you disturbing all your neighbors with this commentary and a drawn weapon?”
“I was, I think,” said Sano a little guiltily, “but I think they’ve figured out that you’re alive but have no eyes. I mean, some of ’em probably already knew.”
Sano fell silent, so Saitou listened to the chatter around them for a while until a cheer erupted from many, many throats. He could sense in Sano’s next words that the orc had bent close to the sword. “A faery just appeared out of nowhere on the platform. Le’s kinda short and fat, and has no hair, and le’s wearing a green dress, but I can’t see any more details from here.”
“Is le the monarch?” Saitou asked. He believed he was being rearranged, probably for greater ease of conversation.
“I can’t tell.”
Someone to the left, undoubtedly a faery, assured them, “That’s the monarch.” Sano thanked lir.
“My darling people!” came a somewhat crackly voice that seemed to be everywhere at once — magical amplification? “And my darling Visitors! Welcome to the 67th annual dance exhibition!” Everyone cheered again.
The monarch began naming the dancers they were to expect, and Saitou noticed that Michael was two or three places down the list. How were they organized? He didn’t care much, but had to find some way to pass the time before they were able to talk to Robin.
“Oh, le just disappeared,” Sano reported. “And some faeries are flying down to the stage.” Music began playing, seemingly everywhere just as the voice had been, but Sano said he couldn’t see the musicians. Perhaps they were in another room, and their sounds magically transferred into this one? Saitou didn’t really understand the limitations of faery magic, so he could only guess.
Sano tried to tell him about the dances, but evidently some of lem were so engrossing that he forgot, and would go for entire stretches of music without a word. Only four did he end up describing: a group of faeries, most of lem with breasts, that danced on leir toes, spinning and leaping, lifting each other up, and waving leir arms (which to Saitou sounded very inelegant); another group of stocky, wide faeries, these presenting mostly male, doing a kind of aggressive stomping in a formation to the beat of heavy drums (Sano seemed to enjoy that one); Michael’s snakelike smoothness and very impressive sliding walk somehow forward and backward at the same time; and a bizarre dance involving a fist spun around the head or wrists draped over each other as the faeries bounced up and down on widespread legs. Ley didn’t seem to do much flying during leir performances, at least in those four.
Saitou tried to conjure up mental images of all this, but had little success. So he simply enjoyed the music, and that Sano had been willing to tell him so much. He got the feeling the orc had been practicing over the last few days, and certainly had the knack of it by now; Saitou appreciated that.
“I wish you could see this. It’s really something.”
Saitou couldn’t think of anything to say in response except, “It’s your fault,” which he decided not to.
The entire exhibition hadn’t been so bad, but that didn’t mean Saitou wasn’t glad when it ended. The monarch’s voice returned, thanked the dancers, rambled a bit about artistic experiences, then announced le would be holding court in the assembly room in fifteen minutes. Le added that le would be getting to everything that had been postponed over the last however long, and laughter ran around the arena — though what the prevailing attitude was, Saitou could not guess.
“Where’s the assembly room?” Sano asked in an intense hiss.
“Out that door,” replied the same person that had enlightened them on the monarch’s identity earlier. “There should be plenty of people headed that direction; hurry if you want to get a good place in line.” Le sounded amused.
Based on the noises that followed, Sano then pushed his way through the crowd in the direction indicated. Din ensued, and Saitou stopped paying attention for a while. Eventually, though, the jumble of conversation around them shifted to lighter chatter, the kind people engaged in while standing around waiting for something. And Sano said, “All right, we’re in line.”
“Good,” said Saitou again. There were only so many ways to acknowledge Sano’s words when he had nothing pertinent to offer, and he couldn’t think of an appropriate insult at the moment.
“This room is all decorated in paintings of spiders,” Sano muttered. “It’s creepy as shit.” After a moment he added, “No, they’re carvings of pictures of spiders with paint on them. Three-dimensional paintings of impaling spiders.”
“Uh, there’s a long line going through switchbacks made of ropes covered in that fuzzy stuff.” Saitou knew that by ‘fuzzy stuff’ Sano meant velvet; they’d already been over this in the enclave. “And there’s other places around for people to just… hang, I guess?”
“You and your slang. I assume you mean ‘hang out’ and not ‘hang from the neck until dead.'”
A couple of what sounded like faeries around them laughed, so Saitou believed they must all be close enough together in the line for lem to hear the entire conversation.
The orc grunted. “All the faeries in line are full-size, but there’s probably a hundred of them small-size in those places. And out past the end of the line there’s a… I guess it’s a throne? But it looks more like a rocking chair? There’s a table beside it. Robin’s not in here yet, but there’s a couple of faeries up there by the table.”
“Those are lir advisers,” someone informed them, “Edgar and John.”
“How long is the line?” asked Saitou. “How many people are ahead of us?”
Sano started to count, and eventually said, “Fifteen.”
“There’s a dwarf,” Sano next informed him, “but the rest are faeries.” And he said no more for several minutes.
The sword tried to pick up what he could from the surrounding discussions, and found them not entirely without interest, though they primarily concerned local gossip and various forms of art. Someone was excitedly telling someone else lir ideas for a novel, and on the other side a few people were talking in musical terms Saitou couldn’t even begin to parse.
Eventually, “Robin just appeared,” said Sano. “Le just pops in and out; wish I could do that. Shit, lir dress is covered in spiders too.”
“That doesn’t sound too out of character for a black faery,” Saitou replied impatiently.
“Yes, you’d best get used to that,” chuckled someone nearby.
The sword could hear Robin announcing that petitions were now open, and inviting the first person in line to approach. After that, leir voices were too low and distant to make out, so he went back to waiting and half listening to the people around him.
“Le’s dealing with these pretty quick, mostly,” Sano told him after a while. “We’re not too far back in the line after all.”
It occurred to Saitou that Sano was probably taller than anyone else in the room, and would have a clear view of the ‘throne’ area. “What’s le doing with the people ahead of us?”
“Talking, mostly, but ley use the table a lot too. Can’t hear ’em too well yet, but I think it’s mostly art stuff. I mean, the way they use ‘art’ around here — drawings and music and writing and shit.”
“No dancers?” Saitou asked sardonically.
Sano laughed. “I bet those were all in here before the exhibition.”
Minutes passed, and finally Saitou could understand what Robin and lir supplicants were saying. “It’s the dwarf’s turn,” Sano informed him, more quietly now as they presumably drew closer to the front.
“Your black faery highness,” a gruff voice spoke. “Ever since our troupe performed before you last year, not one of us has been able to find acting work.”
“Oh, le doesn’t like him,” Sano commented.
With spiteful condescension Robin said, “Yes. I Cursed all of you after that unforgivable ‘adaptation’ of John’s novel.”
“We didn’t write the script!” the dwarf protested. “We just acted it!”
“Oh, I thought up a very special Curse for Peter; don’t you worry.”
“John looks uncomfortable,” Sano whispered.
Here was yet another example of the unethical and arbitrary cruelty of the faery monarchs. Who was Robin to enact this disproportionate punishment on a player in some rendering of John’s work for the stage when John lirself didn’t seem to approve of the royal behavior? In present company, however, Saitou could not say this.
The dwarf sounded frustrated as he asked, “What must I do to break this Curse?”
“You need to write a fanfiction novella,” Robin replied promptly. “At least 50,000 words. It needs to be set in the world of John’s works — John’s works, not Peter’s slaughter of them — and you will feature in it as a self-insert. You know what a self-insert is? Good. You will appear as yourself, as an actor, and you will die by the end of the story. There are plenty of resources here in the black enclave that you can use to get a true feel for the setting and the lore. You can even ask John lirself, if le has time for you.”
It sounded as if the dwarf was grinding his teeth as he said, “I’m no writer. It won’t be any good.”
“Fanfiction doesn’t have to be. Adaptations do. If it makes you feel better, you’re welcome to room and board here in the enclave for the duration. The research and improved understanding are the important things. Also, feel free to include me in the story and kill me off too if you want.”
“Thank you,” the dwarf grated, and it seemed that audience was over.
“Shit,” Sano said under his breath. “I can’t write 50,000 words.”
“You couldn’t write fifty words.” Saitou ignored Sano’s grumbling and instead listened to the dwarf’s boots receding and the subsequent conversation.
“Elizabarb!” Robin cried. “I hope you’re here for what I think you’re here for!”
“Yes!” replied the enthusiastic voice of Elizabarb. “Ley’re at it again! May I have permission to track lem again?”
“Of course! Ooh, I’m excited. Just, try not to autobody-shop as much this time? Introduce a Watson or something.”
“I’ll try,” Elizabarb promised uncertainly.
“OK, go, go, go,” said Robin. “I can’t wait.”
“Dunno what that was about,” Sano muttered. “Anyway, this next one looks kinda nervous.”
Probably for good reason, Saitou reflected.
But, “What do you need?” Robin asked, more casual kindness in lir voice than seemed congruous from someone that arbitrated novellas and turned people into swords.
“I have this great idea for a fantasy series,” the supplicant said all at once. “I just wanted permission to… not include any spiders.”
Robin laughed, sounding a little chagrined. “Ed, would you write out a proclamation for me? I love spiders, but I promise I’m not all about spiders. No one is required to include spiders in their work. I mean, if you write about spiders dying, I might not want to experience whatever it is (unless you’re John), but seriously. No spiders is fine.”
“Thank you!” said the other faery, sounding relieved.
The sound of a rapidly scratching pen had accompanied all these words, and now everyone in the room fell unnaturally silent as a paper rustled. A voice Saitou hadn’t yet heard — presumably Edgar’s — read out the new proclamation. And it was… unbelievable.
In just under a minute, Edgar had transformed Robin’s informal words into a brilliant piece of poetry that induced an exaltation of the soul despite its very mundane subject matter. The complex rhymes and concisely eloquent lines had an overwhelming impact on Saitou and probably everybody else in here. He’d never heard poetry anything like that before. When the reading had finished, the silence extended across several stunned moments before the applause broke out.
“Shee-it!” Sano said, almost lost in the approving uproar. “You’ve got my permission to arrest me for the hatchet song any time!”
As the applause and cheering died down into excited discussion, Sano added, “Only two people left in front of us. Oh, wait, they’re both going up.” His tone darkened as he finished, “We’re next.”
“What’s going on here?” Robin asked, raising lir voice to be heard above the inspired crowd.
“Fire and desire without relevance,” said one of the faeries grimly.
“Oh, le doesn’t like that much either.” Sano had to do the opposite of Robin and lower his voice even farther than before, now he presumably stood at the front of the line.
“Right after Edgar, huh?” Robin remarked sardonically. “Poetry or lyrics?”
“Lyrics,” replied the apparent accuser.
“Let’s hear it, then.”
A new faery spoke up, evidently the defendant. “I don’t write the melodies.”
“Just recite it.”
The faery cleared leir throat and began, with no audible confidence whatsoever. Saitou could well understand how the lyrics to a sappy song like this must sound even worse after Edgar’s triumph of a poem; but he thought this one would have come across as mediocre in any case.
“Mmff,” Robin said disapprovingly when the other faery had finished. “OK, I like that it sounds like a romantic song but it’s really about how ley can’t be together. That’s unusual, so it’s nice. And you can leave the rest of it like it is, but the fire doesn’t have enough to do with the song besides rhyming with ‘desire.’ You know what the penalty for that is.”
“Yes, your majesty.” The accused sounded only somewhat disheartened; apparently this was a regular thing around here. “I’ll change it.”
“And write the other songs,” Robin reminded lir.
“Yes, your majesty,” the faery repeated.
The escort or plaintiff or whatever le was thanked Robin, and a few moments passed while ley probably walked or flew off together. Sano drew in a deep breath and mostly held it as he grunted, “Our turn.” And Saitou could hear his footsteps as he moved forward.
Robin greeted them, “An orc with a talking sword, huh?”
“Why’re you grinning like that?” Sano demanded. “Pretty sure you’re the one who Cursed him!”
“Your majesty, I apologize for this fool,” Saitou said. Loath though he was to offer any apology to someone like this, politeness here was essential. “His name is Sano, and mine is Saitou. He brought me here to ask how to lift this Curse.”
“It’s so difficult for aces to find each other in this world,” Robin remarked pensively, prompting some laughter in the court.
“But how do we break the Curse?” Sano insisted. Saitou guessed he hadn’t understood the monarch’s statement any better than the sword had, and that Sano’s patience had been used up waiting in line.
Robin chuckled, not seeming at all put off by the orc’s behavior. “To break this Curse, you need to bring me a large piece of faery glass from Relena.”
“Relena…” Sano echoed, then muddled his pronouns. “Isn’t he…”
“The pink monarch, yes,” said Robin. Le sounded distracted again, or perhaps it was ‘still.’ Saitou could imagine lir studying lir fingernails.
“But–!” Sano’s tone changed to one of baffled anger. “We just came from the pink place! All the way across Faeryland!”
“Mm, those are my terms.”
Saitou now believed he detected in Robin’s evident distraction something more like engagement on a different level than Sano’s and his. As if some aspect of this situation, unknown to them, had lir full attention. What was le up to? “Sano,” he said, “it’s better than writing a novel.”
“But, your majesty,” the sword went on, without much hope but feeling the need to try, “I believe you could just as easily ask Relena yourself?”
In the same tone le’d used before le replied, “No… no, that wouldn’t do any good.”
Saitou noted it wasn’t “No, I couldn’t.” The statement implied Robin desired some effect from the task beyond a mere request and delivery. Le had some specific motivation here le didn’t plan to reveal. Saitou was certain of it. He wished he could have watched lir bearing and facial expressions throughout this conversation; Sano’s description afterward wouldn’t be nearly as useful.
After a wordless moment during which he assumed the orc stood there speechless with anger and disbelief, Saitou said, “Thank you for the information.”
“Good luck!” Robin wished them. “Or, if you want to give up on breaking the Curse, you two are welcome to stay in the black enclave as long as you want!”
“No, thanks,” Sano grumbled bitterly, reminiscent of the dwarf earlier. And Saitou heard his footsteps again as he turned and left.
This story was originally intended to be a pandemic present, and also to be a light more light-hearted than it’s turned out XD
There are no sex scenes planned for this story. I’ve given it a rating of 4 because some of the sexual references will be pretty explicit. I hate writing sex scenes and don’t do it if I can possibly avoid it… but I’ve been known to forget that policy any time someone buys me $15 worth of ko-fi. I would probably be pretty open to requests from Patrons, too.
I wasted a lot of time on this:
Now your job is to guess who everyone is (despite none of the faeries having wings), which ones I think look decent and which ones made me laugh uproariously, and how many bangs options are available in Rinmaru Games Mega Fantasy Avatar Creator. There were ZERO hair options for Sano, and no tusks at all, and I was laughing too hard to keep trying to make one for him.