Chapter Text
It was two days later, and Ronan, Connor, and Cara were starting to get restless in their small clearing. They had so much free time that the space had been cleaned up significantly. The grass had even been worn down in some parts so that it was turned to beaten down dirt. They now had a designated area for the fire and preparing food, a place with their bedrolls designated for sleeping, and even a section for their horses to sleep and eat.
It was like having a house that didn’t have any floors, walls or ceiling. And was outside. And just wasn’t a house in general.
It didn’t take that long for the different restaurant owners and bartenders to recognize Ronan and Connor and Cara and even call them by name. It was strange at first, but also nice. Sort of like when their cooks at home came out of the kitchen to chat. Ronan was still getting used to it.
Just like he told Cara and Connor, he didn’t want to stay for long. It was the second morning—turning to the afternoon, and they were gathering their stuff together. It was weird to be leaving a place that they had stayed for so long, but Ronan didn’t want to risk it.
He hadn’t lied to the stranger. They would leave without the money. If they didn’t hear from him by sundown, then they would have no other choice but to move on.
They had bought plenty of food already with the first bag of money with some still left over. Cara now wore a pair of sturdy riding pants, and both Ronan and Connor had new jackets to wear. They were too big, since they had been made for humans that were more heavily muscled then them and it wasn’t like they could get anything fitted.
It was the first time Ronan had worn something that wasn’t perfectly made to fit him, and he constantly had to pull the sleeves up or have it fall over his hands.
They were almost finished packing up the horses as the sun sank lower and lower, when there was a voice in the back of Ronan’s head that was very distinctly not his own.
“Testing, uh, hey, this is the person who did the bounty with you. Meet me at the Toppled Stool. I’ll be waiting for you there.”
Connor and Cara were looking at him when he finally blinked back to his body, and Ronan paused in his task of strapping the saddle to his horse. They must’ve known something magical was up because both of them were looking very concerned.
“That was him,” Ronan said. “Um, magic, I think. He said to meet him in town.”
“Should we wait here for you?” Cara asked.
Ronan looked at their horses, already packed, and how their campsite was already broken down. He didn’t want to make them wait around in the clearing, so he shook his head.
“Come with me,” he said. “It’s the Toppled Stool. You can wait outside and then we can just leave from there instead of coming back here.”
Connor and Cara both nodded in agreement. Connor pulled himself up onto his horse in one smooth motion and settled himself in the saddle. It took Cara a couple tries but eventually she pulled herself up next too. Ronan pulled himself up next.
He didn’t want to put his siblings in danger but this was the best plan he could think of.
Together, they rode into town, Ronan leading the way since he knew the stores better than they did. There were plenty of places for them to tie their horses. They all slid to the ground because they couldn’t loiter like that, and Ronan tied the reins to the wooden pole.
“I’ll be quick,” he promised his siblings, already securing the fabric over his face like he had done before.
They just nodded and huddled together, out of the way from strangers’ stares as much as they could.
Ronan pushed into the bar, not sure what he should expect. It was later at night, which meant the booths were crowded and the seats were mostly full. Ronan, despite his time spent here, still didn’t know how to wave down the bartender to order a drink. Luckily, there was someone already waving at him from a booth in a corner, and Ronan recognized the amber-eyed human from the job that he had done a couple days ago.
He was sitting at a table near the back of the tavern, all alone in a small booth that had room enough for three or four people. He already had a drink, too, and if Ronan guessed who the second tankard was for, he figured he would have a drink too when he sat down.
He headed in that direction.
“I bet you thought you had seen the last of me,” the stranger said as Ronan slid into his seat.
“I wasn’t sure if I could trust you,” Ronan admitted.
The stranger pushed the tankard across the table at him and then took a drink from his own cup. “You have no faith in me,” he said with a teasing twinkle in his eye.
Ronan didn’t. He didn’t know this man. He wasn’t sure if he should just say that out loud, so he took his tankard instead, taking a drink of the pale brown liquid. He barely stopped himself from making a face and spitting it back out. It was nothing like the fine liquors and delicate, fruity wines that his family served around the table.
It was harsh and burned in his mouth before it even reached the back of his throat. Ronan choked it down so he didn’t look out of place. Everyone else didn’t seem to be bothered at all. He didn’t think he would be taking a second drink though.
“Well?” he managed to choke out. His eyes were watering and he was pretty sure he looked less intimidating and serious than he wanted. He tried to pull himself together. “I’m expecting the money from the bounty we filled.”
The stranger raised an eyebrow at him but reached beneath the table.
Ronan tensed without meaning too, but the stranger just pulled out a bag of coins and tossed it on the table between them. Ronan should’ve known better than to grab it so eagerly, but he couldn’t stop himself. He reached for it before he could stop himself, and the stranger had grabbed his wrist, his grip tighter than Ronan anticipated.
“Why do you need this money?” the stranger asked.
His gaze was intense, no longer joking or humored, and he locked eyes with Ronan. And Ronan wasn’t sure if he should look away or pull away. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do and when he opened his mouth, no words came out.
“Why do you need the money?” the stranger asked again. “I’ve seen every type of person down on their luck, and you aren’t like any of them.”
“I thought we did the job with no questions asked,” Ronan said. He refused to let go of the bag of money even if it meant that he couldn’t pull out of the stranger’s grip.
“Well, now I’m asking,” the stranger said. “I thought you were normal.”
“I am normal.”
“I think we both know that you’re lying.”
Ronan sucked in a sharp breath, not sure what he was supposed to say to that. He felt out of place ever since he had left Bay Hollow, but he wasn’t about to tell that to this stranger. He scowled and almost considered throwing his drink in the stranger’s face, but that was something that ladies in higher social circles did when receiving unwanted advancements.
He wasn’t sure how his bluff had been called, but he definitely didn’t know how to get out of it.
“I don’t have to tell you anything,” he said. He wasn’t sure why he thought the stranger would believe him this time, but he didn’t have a backup plan.
With a sly smile, the stranger pulled a knife from his belt and set it obviously on the table between them. He just left it there, because just like Ronan, he didn’t want to draw attention to them either. It was an obvious threat, and Ronan swallowed sharply.
“Are you understanding me a little bit better?” the stranger asked. His smile was almost friendly, if Ronan didn’t know the real situation.
He nodded without saying a word.
“Now,” the stranger said. “Take the cloth away from your face.”
Without much of a choice, Ronan reached up with his free hand and pulled the cloth away from his face. He tossed it carelessly on the table in front of him, just to show some sort of deviance towards the stranger.
The stranger’s eyes narrowed at him, and his grip on Ronan’s wrist faltered a bit.
“Hood,” he ordered.
No one else in the bar was paying attention to them, all too busy getting drunk after a long day’s work and catching up with their fellows. Even the wait staff didn’t seem to notice what was happening in the corner booth. Ronan desperately wanted one of them to stop by and ask them if they wanted drinks or food. Anything to break up this confrontation.
They didn’t.
And Ronan slowly reached up and pulled down his hood as well. He had his long hair tied up to keep it out of the way, but without the hood, there wasn’t much left of his disguise. Was there a bounty for him and his siblings? Was this stranger looking to make even more money? Would he kill Ronan just like they killed the thief?
Ronan just wished there was a way to tell Connor and Cara to run so they would at least be able to get to safety.
Instead, though, the stranger’s eyes went wide.
He snatched his hand away from Ronan, and Ronan almost ran right then and there as soon as he was free. But somehow the stranger’s reaction made him pause.
“Ronan?” the stranger asked.
He said Ronan’s name like he didn’t believe it, and Ronan didn’t even know how he knew his name. Perhaps from whatever bounty, but he wasn’t sure what else. The knife was still on the table, and it wasn’t like Ronan could pull his sword out in the middle of a bar.
“Oh my gods, Ronan,” the stranger said. He was almost crying now, and Ronan didn’t know why.
“I don’t know who you are,” he spat. He was angry that this stranger knew him and he didn’t know this stranger.
“It’s me,” the stranger said. With a wave of his hand, he dispelled some sort of magic, and the illusion was dropped.
And suddenly Ronan was angry that he didn’t realize it sooner.
The dark hair. The amber eyes. The rapier. The way the stranger spoke and carried himself. Ronan should’ve realized it before, and he would curse himself to the nine circles and back for not realizing it sooner.
“Paddock,” he whispered.
He hadn’t seen his younger brother in forever, and maybe that’s why he didn’t recognize him. That, and the illusion spell Paddy had used.
His hair was longer than it had been when he had left, and he had lost the baby fat that had lingered around his face before. His eyes were different too, less eager for the world and more weathered. Like someone who had seen things that they shouldn’t have seen.
And Ronan never would have thought he would see his younger brother here, of all places.
And maybe that’s why he didn’t realize who the stranger was right away.
“Oh, Paddy,” he repeated.
Paddy didn’t even say anything. He just stood and pulled Ronan out of the booth and into a hug. He had grown in the time he had been gone, and they were now the same height. Which was completely strange. Ronan wasn’t bothered by it in the slightest.
The rest of the bar still wasn’t paying attention to them, but that didn’t stop Ronan from pushing away first out of embarrassment. Public displays of affection were never appropriate in the more formal circles.
Ronan didn’t even realize he was crying until he wiped absentmindedly at his face and his hand came away wet.
Paddy was crying too and he didn’t seem that ashamed of it. His own tears streamed down his face and he didn’t even try to wipe them away.
“Gods,” Paddy said. “I . . . I can’t believe you’re alive. I saw the house burned and everything was gone and no one was there and—”
“We left,” Ronan said. “We got out in time. I . . . I don’t know about everyone else but Connor, Cara, and I all managed to get away before the house went up in flames.”
Paddy’s eyes shone, and he grabbed Ronan’s hand tight, almost shaking him before stopping himself. “Connor and Cara?!” he asked.
Ronan had almost forgotten about them. Not really, but the moment had taken over his mind, that he had forgotten about everyone else besides himself and Paddy.
He nodded quickly. “They’re outside,” he said. “I never thought . . . I didn’t know you would be here!”
“Are you all okay?” Paddy asked.
Ronan didn’t really have an answer for that. He just took Paddy’s hand in his own and pulled him towards the front door of the bar.
Connor and Cara jumped to attention when the door swung open, and they both reached for their weapons on instinct. Ronan had to put his hands up to stop them from attacking. That was what they had been driven to.
Paddy didn’t seem to care.
He pushed past Ronan and grabbed Connor and Cara like they weren’t about to stab him. They seemed just as caught off guard by him because even when he pulled them into a huge hug, they looked shocked and confused. They looked at Ronan over Paddy’s shoulders, but he was still crying. Happy tears, but tears nonetheless.
“Oh my gods,” Connor muttered, and then he seemed to realize who was hugging him and then he finally hugged back.
Cara had realized almost immediately and already had her face buried in Paddy’s shoulder, shaking as she quietly cried.
Paddy, at least, seemed to have pulled himself together and he was the first one to push away from the hug. He wasn’t crying as hard, but it also looked like he was holding back a lot.
“Come on,” he said. “We can’t stay here.” He half turned and finally spotted the horses that were still tied to the posts, and his face lit up all over again. “Portia and Sherry! And you brought Powder too?”
And Ronan couldn’t help but laugh because of course Paddy somehow remembered the names of the horses no matter how long he had been gone. And his younger brother had somehow pulled an apple out of his bag and was already splitting it between the three horses. They all seemed to remember him too, or maybe they just wanted more food, as they nuzzled his hands and pockets. Paddy was more than happy to oblige them.
“How are you alive?” Connor said.
“Where have you been all this time?” Cara said. “With everything that happened . . . and we didn’t hear from you!”
Paddy froze and then his hand slowly fell from Sherry’s nose. He grabbed the reins then and started to undo the knots.
“We should talk about this on the road,” he said and his voice dropped lower. “You never know who could be listening.”
Ronan nodded and shot Connor and Cara a stern look to tell them not to argue. They saddled up easily, but Paddy didn’t have a horse of his own. He pulled himself on the back of Powder, Cara’s draft, without a word to explain how he had been traveling on foot this whole time.
Ronan led the way even though he didn’t know the roads or trails any better. They rode in silence for several minutes, until the sun was starting to disappear below the horizon. They didn’t stop just yet, but Paddy did talk first.
“I did go back,” he said softly. “To the house I mean. There was nothing there, and I thought . . . I thought the worst.”
Ronan nodded. It was reasonable to think. If there was nothing left of the house, why would they have survived? There wasn’t any way to figure out if each other were alive and how do you contact someone without an address?
“No one knew what really had happened,” Paddy went on. “I mean, there were stories, but no one could agree on what had happened or who had attacked or if anyone had survived. I left. I wasn’t sure what else to do.”
Ronan cleared his throat, looking over to where Ronan was hanging onto Cara to stay on the horse. “Mother and Father. . . . didn’t make it,” he said.
Connor winced and didn’t say anything.
“As far as we know,” Ronan went on. “We’re the only ones left. Not that we have any way of knowing.”
They fell into silence again, since no one wanted to talk about that reality. They continued on as the sun sank lower and lower. No one suggested stopping so they didn’t. They just kept going because they didn’t have a good reason to stop.
“I’m no longer with the circus,” Paddy said finally, as if that were a good thing. “Which is good. I did odd jobs for a while and then found a different group.”
“A different group?” Ronan repeated. He trusted his brother. He didn’t trust anyone else just yet.
“They’re great,” Paddy quickly said. “We’re helping people, and it means a lot to me that I’m able to be a part of that.”
Ronan scowled forward at the trail. Connor and Cara had been quiet this entire time, like they understood that their older siblings were arguing and that they shouldn’t interfere. Even their horses seemed to sense the tension.
“I’m not asking you to come with me,” Paddy said.
“You should be coming with us!” Ronan said. “We’re your family!”
“It’s not as simple as that,” Paddy said. “Not anymore.”
“It should be!”
“Well it isn’t!”
Silence again, but not for long. Paddy put his shoulders back, looking more confident that Ronan had ever seen him. Older too. He had scars that Ronan hadn’t seen before and was more muscled too. He had taken to living on the road better than everyone else had.
“I’m not asking you to come with me,” he repeated. “Because I understand that would be selfish. Like I said, we’re helping people. Doing good things. I want to continue that. I have some money saved up from jobs we’ve done. I can pay for rooms at an inn, even pay for passage to a coastal city. I’m sure Father has some trading vessels left over somewhere. You can make your own fortune.”
Ronan hated that idea. He hated that his younger brother was more prepared than him for all of this. He was supposed to be taking care of the family, not Paddy. It was never supposed to be like this.
“I’m going with Paddock, um, Paddy.”
Ronan looked at Connor in surprise. Normally his younger brother knew how to hold his tongue when the adults were talking. When topics around the dinner table got more serious about business and politics, it was understood that only Ronan joined in their parents’ discussion. Sometimes Paddy would offer a word or two, but Connor and Cara kept quiet.
Now, Connor was sitting tall in his saddle, staring defiantly at Ronan.
Before Ronan could respond to him, Cara was sitting up tall as well.
“Me too,” she said. “If Paddy has friends, then I want to meet them. It’ll be safer.”
“We don’t know that,” Ronan said. He thought about pulling down on his horse’s reins and bringing the whole group to an abrupt stop. He didn’t. “We don’t know if anything is safe! Not anymore.”
“You’re not Father,” Connor said, and the words were almost spiteful.
Ronan was so surprised that whatever he was going to say died in his throat. He blinked at Connor. He never would have expected this from him. Cara, maybe, but not Connor.
“You’re not Father,” Connor said with a bit more confidence. “He’s dead. And so is Mother. We don’t have them anymore, and you need to stop acting like you’re in charge.”
Ronan opened his mouth to snap back, but Cara interrupted him.
“We’re going with Paddy, Ronan,” she said softly. “You can come if you want—I really hope you do—but I think what Connor is trying to say is that we need to start making our own decisions.”
Ronan huffed but knew he was outnumbered. No point in protesting further. He slumped and let Cara and Paddy pass him on the trail so that they could take the lead. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll go with Paddy’s . . . group.” It still didn’t sound good, even when he said it out loud.
Paddy was smiling, but it was obviously forced as himself to try to bring up the mood of the group. Maybe that’s what he had done in the circus—some sort of jester or clown. Ronan had no way of knowing, and now it was too awkward and tense to ask.
He really didn’t want to leave his family. He didn’t. They were comforting and the only solid sort of hope that he could rely on. He just hadn’t noticed that Connor and Cara had become adults like himself. He didn’t have much else left in the world other than the three people around him, and he wasn’t ready to give that up.