Chapter Text
Allura and Drake watch as Kima stands in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing similar expressions of surprise at her sudden appearance. They all stare in silence at each other, Kima slack-jawed. Seconds drag on into minutes until finally, Drake coughs, pulling all of them from their silence. “Right, well. I’m beat, lass,” he says, mostly to Allura, “And I’m turning in. You should get some rest too – we can pick up all our mysteries again in a couple days.”
Allura doesn’t quite respond, simply hums in agreement. With that, Drake shoulders his pack and makes his way towards Kima, who moves so he can get through the door. He gives her a faint, tired smile as he passes, “S’ good to see you, Kima.”
“Yeah. You too.”
The door clicks shut behind him and Allura spins to open the cupboard – looking for something to eat before she sleeps. She can feel Kima’s eyes burning into her back as she searches – she knows what’s coming from the halfling and she isn’t going to try to stop Kima from saying whatever’s on her mind, but she isn’t going to stand around dumbly and wait for her to find the words.
“You could’ve sent me a message.” Kima winces as she speaks – the words coming out more accusing than she meant for them to be, but it seems to do the trick. Allura freezes before her face emerges from the cupboard, looking rather shocked with an impressively large and unladylike bite of bread, a hair’s breadth from her lips.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You should have messaged me.”
“For a trip to Westruun?” Allura’s voice is fringed with exhaustion, she’s sure if anyone will pick up on it, Kima will, but she’s well-practiced at schooling her tone and if anyone else is listening in they’ll surely only pick up on the contemptuousness, “I wasn’t aware you were so keen to visit. I’ll remember to invite you along the next time I make a trip – assuming any of it still stands after all of this, that is.”
“Don’t – don’t do that, not to me, Allura, don’t pretend. There’s no one else in here but you and me, so you can put all the bullshit and the pretense away. You could have messaged me – You should have messaged me. About any of it – Westruun… Emon… Uriel… Thordak. Especially about Thordak.”
She should have known Kima was going to call her on it – when has she ever not? Allura hoped, foolishly, that Kima might take the hint from the fact that her cloak is singed and her voice is tired and let her go to bed. But if she wants to do this now – Allura sighs, “I figured you would hear on your own – that Vord would have his own ideas on what to do. I didn’t want to add to your plate.”
“But if you were there –”
“Who said I was there? I was here in Whitestone when the conclave descended on Emon. I left as soon as I could when I felt all my connections disappear – Drake went with me and we met Vox Machina outside the city – they painted a very vivid picture, and of course the city itself was a mess from the little of it I saw. We were there for maybe an hour while we discussed the barest bones of a plan and then Drake and I left for Westruun.”
“You can send magical messages, though – I’ve seen you do it.”
“And what would you have had me do Kima? Message you and wait for you to come to Emon and then go on to Westruun? There wasn’t–”
“ Time . You’ve mentioned. You can teleport.”
“Not an unlimited number of times – which you know . If we had teleported close to you, we’d have had to rest either before making the jump to Westruun or once we got there, which would be considerably less safe. Not to mention the fact that we couldn’t have jumped directly into the city because of all it’s rules and regulations about magic . There simply wasn’t time , Kima. I’m sorry if you feel I was keeping you out of the loop, truly that wasn’t my intention, but we had such little time to act. If we wanted any guarantee of usable information – which there already wasn’t much of that – from the Cobalt Reserve there, we had to go right away!”
“Alright. Alright, fine. You didn’t have time. But those idiots couldn’t have gone with you? You don’t wear any armor, Allura, but you run headfirst towards dragons on your own anyways?!”
“You would have done the same thing.” Kima starts to interrupt, but Allura raises a hand, “No, don’t argue with me, you know you would too. You always rush headfirst into things with no regard for your own safety. As for Vox Machina going with me – it would have been too conspicuous. They tend to attract so much attention and they had their own laundry list of things they needed to do – and anyways, I wasn’t on my own. Drake went with me. Together we were able to move quietly enough to not attract any attention and now we’re back – and we’re fine .”
Silence stretches between them as they stand there, an awkward distance between them – both physically and otherwise. Allura poses excellent points – when doesn’t she, she’s an exquisite arguer, but she knows that. When it becomes clear that the halfling hasn’t anything else to add, Allura takes advantage of lull in their conversation to nibble at the bread she’s pulled for herself. Kima decides to let her eat and considers cutting her losses and saying goodnight. Just as she’s about to turn and go, however, Allura breaks a piece of bread off the end she isn’t eating from and extends it to the other woman. A kind of peace offering – a time-honored tradition from their adventuring days. Kima can’t say no, so she closes the distance between them and takes the offered bread, leaning against the table as she bites into it. It’s stale and disappointingly hard to chew – a sorry welcome home snack for sure, though neither of them complains. As they eat, standing next to each other in silence, Allura’s posture shifts. The proud stature of the wizard melts, shoulders caving forward. It isn’t a change she makes in front of many people – now Kima can see exactly how tired Allura is – it’s another kind of peace offering. A reminder that she trusts her implicitly.
When the bread is gone, Kima cranes her head back to look at Allura, “Alright. You staying here in the castle?” The wizard nods. “Perfect, come on – let’s get you to bed. Gimme your pack.”
“I know where my room is, Kima.”
“I’m sure you do. I’m just making sure you actually make it there and not to whatever’s serving as your office. You look like hell.”
“You’re too kind,” comes the dry response, “I need to drop some things off at the study first. Not to work, just to leave what we found–”
“Not on your own, not a chance – knowing you, you’ll put it all down and start reading.”
Allura heaves a sigh, “I suppose giving you my word that I’ll go straight to my room, no dawdling and no studying, won’t persuade you?”
“Nope. Now let’s get a move on before you give the servants a scare by dropping where you stand.”
“You’re being unreasonable,” Allura sighs, but hands her bag off. In the blink of an eye, her posture appears to return to its usual almost regal state – business as usual – and she motions for Kima to follow her. “If you’re going to accompany me, can we please stop by the study? Just to drop the bag off –”
“I guess… Just to unpack, okay? Not even unpack –– leave everything on the desk and then we go right to your room. You need to sleep.”
Allura gives her word and together, they set off through the castle. Things seem to have settled now that the excitement surrounding Allura and Drake’s return has died down and they encounter no more than one or two patrolling guards on their way up the stairs. Allura leads the way to the room designated as her study and heaves a heavy sigh as she pushes the door open.
Everything in the room looks exactly as she left it a little more than a week ago – with the addition of Drake’s pouch slouched haphazardly on the corner of the desk. Allura smiles tiredly to herself as she pushes it away from it’s precarious spot before depositing her own bag of holding beside it. She’s itching to get started right away – the growing presence of danger prodding and nagging at the back of her mind. She could make so much progress if she started reading tonight… Behind her, Kima coughs. The halfing is right – loathe as Allura is to admit it, but she needs to sleep.
She spends a few, lingering moments glancing over the surface of the desk, making sure there aren’t any notes from Cassandra (there aren’t) and then turns to face her friend. “Alright,” she says, “The rest can wait until morning.”
They walk in silence the rest of the way to Allura’s room, Kima a half-step behind as Allura leads the way, footsteps echoing around the stone hallways. She’s about to push her door open when something makes her hesitate – a hand reaching for hers, fingertips just brushing. She spins again to face Kima. The halfling’s face is twisted with doubt, worry – a look seldom fixed to her features – something uncertain hanging in the air. Their hands fall apart almost as quickly as they’d met.
“He’s really back.”
There it is. Allura’s heart drops to her feet hearing it. None of them – not her, not even Drake – had ever expected they’d be here again, face to face with this foe. She can feel the color drain from her face – what little was there to begin with – and she nods, “They said he named himself – plain as day. How could it be anyone else?”
“ Shit. ”
“Mhmm…”
They’re quiet for just a moment longer, and then Kima straightens, “I should let you get some sleep,” she says before gesturing vaguely behind her, “My room’s just around the corner if you need anything…”
And just like that, Kima turns to go. She gets no more than a few small steps away before –
“Kima?” The name is no more than a whisper on Allura’s lips, but the halfling still stops and turns, “I’m sorry – that we didn’t message you first. We – I – should have. At the very least, you deserved to know – to hear it from us.”
Kima just nods sadly, “Thanks. Get some rest, Allura. We can talk tomorrow.”
“Yes, of course. Tomorrow. Sleep well, Kima.”
After their shared snack in the kitchens, they hardly have a chance to see each other – much less to even exchange more than a sparse greeting – even more than a week later, the wake of the Chroma Conclave’s initial strike on Tal’Dorei still has everyone in a tizzy. As more refugees arrive in Whitestone, both Kima and Allura find themselves taking up more responsibilities. The nature of their duties across Whitestone don’t lend themselves to many opportunities to cross paths. There’s breakfast in the morning where they often catch each other’s eye from across the table as everyone discusses their different tasks for the day – Kima will wave, Allura will give her a small smile and nod, then they’ll go their separate ways for the day. Everyone takes their midday meal as they have a chance to, so there’s no formal offering for it. There is an offered evening meal, but Kima often spends her evenings at The Journey’s End. With Allura back, however, Kima makes more of an effort to head back to the castle in time for the meal in hopes of catching her, and is somehow always surprised when Allura, Drake, and oftentimes even Lady Cassandra are all missing from it. As it turns out, they’re missing from most meals more often than not.
Kima’s figured out that after breakfast – if she’s in attendance at all – Allura allows herself one break during her day to take a walk in the gardens of Castle Whitestone. Most might argue that she needs more than one measley break in a day of work, but when there’s so much to be done… She feels she can’t afford so much time away – which is exactly what she says to anyone who comments on how hard she’s working. Everyone else is working hard to help Whitestone keep up with the influx of refugees, the least Allura can do is help Cassandra rebuild politically where she can, continue her research on the ziggaurat and on building a barrier to protect the city, and reach out to the allies she’s accumulated over the years. She can’t control much these days, but she can at least do as much as possible with what she can.
So Kima, armed with new knowledge concerning Allura’s whereabouts, adjusts her afternoon schedule every couple days to include a midday return to the castle. Not every day – people would for sure start asking questions and Gilmore would absolutely give her that look like he knows exactly what’s going on. He still does when she offhandedly mentions needing to go back to the castle for lunch. Mercifully, he doesn’t pry, but Kima knows he won’t forget. At least he won’t tell anyone – he’d better not – but he won’t forget. For today, she shakes Gilmore and his all too familiar all-knowing looks from her mind as she races back to the castle.
She arrives breathless, lungs screaming, but she thinks she’s made it in time. Before rushing to the gardens, Kima makes a quick stop by the kitchen. Varon greets her, half distracted as he stirs a large pot. He doesn’t even try to stop her from grabbing a bag of honey-roasted nuts from the pantrybefore she darts out with a quick farewell. If she knows Allura, and she does, the woman is probably hungry.
Allura’s easy enough to find once she makes it to the garden – she’s hard to miss even among the greenery. Rich blue robes and golden hair – impractically long sleeves and escaped tendrils floating in the gentle breeze. She smiles when she notices Kima approaching.
“Lady Vysoren,” Kima says with a sweeping bow when she finally comes to stop, “Forgive me for interrupting your afternoon walk. Might I join you?”
“I suppose that would be alright,” Allura muses, gesturing gently for Kima to join her, “Is there a reason for the formalities, Lady Kima?”
“Nah – just thought you might need a snack.” When Kima produces the aforementioned snack, she delights in how genuinely surprised Allura looks as she accepts it.
“Oh! How thoughtful, thank you, Kima.”
It becomes a normal part of both their schedules, eventually. Kima does her rounds and helps Pike with the injured or helps train the recruits and makes sure they’re in the best shape they can be in. Allura does any number of twenty different things she’s working on – surrounded by all sorts of people as she does. And for a short time in the afternoons, they share some kind of small snack together and try to keep each other up to date.
Despite keeping busy, Kima itches to do more than just hang around Whitestone and wait – it drives her mad. And what are they waiting for anyways? A dragon to fly over and incinerate them? Vox Machina to come back and need something again? Kima can’t help but think her time might be better spent out there with those idiots.
(But then who would check in and make sure that certain thick-headed wizards weren’t running themselves into the ground? The shockingly young and similarly overworked Lady DeRolo?)
They talk about everything and anything during these breaks – Kima does her best to steer their conversations away from work, but she doesn’t mind hearing Allura talk about what she’s working on. Allura could make anything sound fascinating. Sometimes they talk about Vox Machina – how the group reminds them both of themselves when they were younger and their own adventuring party, which always turns the afternoon bittersweet.
“You should come to The Journey’s End tonight,” Kima blurts out one afternoon after an awkward pause when the conversation stalls at the mention of Dhola.
“The tavern in town?”
“Yeah – I meet Pike, Zahra, and Kashaw there some nights. You’ve met them – or at least I think you’ve worked with Zahra a bit – they’re good people. Drake’s there sometimes, too. Plus you work too hard. You should give yourself an evening off.”
“I don’t know, Kima. There’s so much that needs doing – so much I have to finish –”
“Oh! And Shaun’s feeling better lately – Pike’s cleared him to start moving around – so he’ll probably be there too…”
“Shaun Gilmore?”
“The one and only, apparently. He speaks very highly of you, you know. Is that like a thing? Do all you wizards know each other somehow?”
Allura looks amused at the question, a smile toying at the corner of her lips as she raises an eyebrow, “What do you mean by that?”
“What do you mean? He said he knew about you despite the fact that he didn’t get to talk to you much – And you’re familiar with his store, aren’t you?”
“I’ve shopped at his store before, yes, but I’m a high profile member on the council of the city his store is located in – surely that has more to do with him knowing –”
“Yeah but don’t all you wizards like to share notes or something?” Allura stifles a laugh at this, causing Kima to frown, “What’s so funny, Vysoren?”
“Shaun’s not a wizard, Kima.”
A crease forms between Kima’s brow. That can’t be right, she thinks, trying to remember the magic she’s watched him use. It’s definitely not divine magic – it’s arcanic. “Sure he is,” she says finally, “I called him one and he didn’t correct me, at least.”
“I’m quite certain he’s a sorcerer…”
It’s very rare that Kima gets good ideas, so she doesn’t hide the smile that blossoms across her face when she offers the challenge, “Well, I guess you’ll just have to come to the tavern tonight and make sure.”
Check and mate – Allura can’t ever pass up an opportunity to prove she’s right about something. And the satisfaction Kima feels when she can see in real time as Allura realizes this makes her feel six inches taller.
“Feeling confident about that?”
Kima scoffs, “Fairly. You’re looking awfully smug already – would you like to put some money on it?”
They agree on a price of five gold – even shake hands like old times. Kima doesn’t like how sure of herself Allura looks, but she’s at least gotten the wizard to promise to show up later that evening. And she knows Allura is a woman of her word, so she looks the least surprised out of everyone when Allura shows up at The Journey’s End that night.
It’s an oddly comforting and familiar thing – seeing Allura in a pub. She looks so much more out of place now that she looks even more regal than she did at just nineteen, but like Kima expects, she can still throw a drink back better than the rest of them. She’s the perfect addition to the group, not that Kima had any doubts that she would be – Kima’s never met a single person that wasn’t thoroughly enchanted by Allura Vysoren.
Drake doesn’t say anything, but he looks surprised when he walks in to see Allura sitting with the rest of them, already deep in conversation with Shaun about various methods of enchantment. He joins them easily enough – Zahra even weighs in from time to time, leaving Pike, Kash, and Kima to just sip their ale and try to keep up.
Hours later, they’re all bidding each other a good night and starting to stumble their way back to their respective lodgings – Gilmore, Kashaw, and Zahra have homes in town, while the rest of them still have to make the trek back up to the castle. Drake left a good hour before the rest of them, complaining of a headache.
“Wait – Pike you go on ahead,” Kima says, remembering very suddenly how she’d drawn Allura out in the first place, “We forgot to ask Shaun something – we’ll be right behind you. Shaun! Gilmore!”
Shaun’s almost rounded the corner when Kima shouts for him, pausing and looking rather expectantly at them. Not willing to wait and see if he’s going to walk back, and feeling splendidly free of her inhibitions thanks to the many tankards of Whitestone’s finest beer, Kima grabs Allura by the hand and practically drags her over to him.
“You – Glorious Gilmore –”
“Yes, that is what the good people tend to call me. Did you have something you needed, little paladin?”
“Hey! I am not that little – but yes. Allura and I were disagreeing about something earlier and needed you to settle the score for us.”
“Ah, no, no, I don’t do lovers quarrels – whatever little spat you’re having you’re going to have to leave me out of–”
“Oh, please, Shaun, it’s nothing of that sort,” Allura interjects, “Kima asked me earlier if ‘we’ wizards all knew each other – shared notes and the like. She’s quite sure you’re also a wizard, but I would almost surely bet my tower you were a sorcerer?”
The laugh that escapes Gilmore echoes through the town, shaking through his entire belly as he holds his ribcage. To his credit, he only winces a little. This doesn’t do anything to make Kima feel better about the bet she’d made earlier that afternoon. Especially not hearing Allura drunkenly admit she’d bet her whole tower – even if said tower is a pile of rubble in a burning city currently, Allura wouldn’t say that if she wasn’t certain.
“Lady Kima of Vord, did you think I was a wizard?” The gasping question is met with a grumbling affirmation that she did, which only makes Gilmore howl, “I hope you did not bet anything too precious on my account – I would be loathe to be the cause of the loss of anything dear.”
Allura looks too smug for how drunk she is – which only makes Kima grumble more. Thankfully, instead of gloating, Allura simply thanks Gilmore for settling the debate and pulls Kima by their still entertwined hands back towards the castle. He bids them a cheerful goodnight and disappears into the night. If he notices the quiet giggles Allura is fighting back, he very tactfully doesn’t bring it up.
Back at the castle, after pressing five gold coins into the hand of a gleeful wizard, Kima lays in bed and stares up at the ceiling. As she falls asleep, the haze of a night of drinking slowly giving way to unconsciousness, she can still feel Allura’s hand in her own. She sighs heavily, willing herself to not forget the feeling or the sound of the wizard’s laughter. Something more coherent at the back of her mind insists she ought not read too much into it, but the ale brings her dreams of blue and gold and painfully soft lips.
Kima isn’t sure why she asks Cassandra if she and Allura could take up residence in one of the small houses outside the castle. No, no, that isn’t actually true. She does know – she’d thought, foolishly, that putting at least a little distance between Allura Vysoren and the damn library and the hustle and bustle of the castle would force the prideful woman into taking an actual break. Just getting Allura to sleep for more than a few hours as it is, is like trying to coax a dragon off it’s hoard (a feat few of even her closer friends in the castle are willing to attempt).
Over the years, Allura has carefully crafted a mask of composure she likes to keep up, but Kima can see past it – can see how tired Allura is – like how when she thinks no one’s looking, her blue eyes darken and her shoulders sag –– and, perhaps most importantly, from their years adventuring together, Kima knows Allura is prone to migraines when she’s stressed. She hides it well enough, but having seen all the signs of stress before, they’re not easy to ignore.
Thankfully, Cassandra aquiesces, informing Kima that there’s an empty house next door to none other than Shaun Gilmore on the north side of town. Kima’s sure the young woman also sees the way Allura will work into the wee hours of the morning – some nights not even managing to make her way to bed at all. (Kima has noticed on more than one occasion that the younger De Rolo is often also guilty of the same, having caught the pair of them working silently in the same room even as the sun creeps its way over the mountains.)
She’s caught completely off-guard when Allura agrees almost immediately – she was expecting more of a fight from the wizard. But the lack of fight regarding the move means they can make the change just as quickly. The house is small, but they’ve made small spaces work in the past, so Kima isn’t too worried. However, she isn’t expecing one singular bedroom with one bed that was almost certainly not built for two people. One small bed – alright. It’s not what she was originally planning for, but Kima is nothing if not adaptable and though she might not look like it, so is Allura. They can make this work.
A voice, clever and soft, snaps Kima from her thoughts, “I could always make the place a bit larger – add another room? Then we can both have enough space. Maybe some wards – for added security. Perhaps something to keep the chill out – that wouldn’t hurt either… What do you think?” Allura is scanning the meager house, already mentally mapping out the best way to add on to make themselves more comfortable. Arcane energy crackles around her as she considers what she might cast – the offer less a question than it is a plan.
Kima can hardly believe what she’s hearing, though hindsight will make her wonder why she was surprised at all. “The point of this place is to let you have a rest from magic and all that work you do, not to make more !”
“It won’t take much at all for me to fix things – and then it’s done and we don’t have to worry about it. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t think I could handle it.”
“I can sleep on the floor – it’s fine. We don’t need more space.”
“The floor? Absolutely not and I’ll not hear another word on it – you’ll freeze to death! And for what? A ridiculous show of chivalry? I’ll either make the bed bigger so we can share it, or add another room, but you’re not sleeping on the–”
“It’s not ridiculous chivalry, you impossible woman! That bed is tiny , Allura! I won’t break my back sleeping on the floor. It’s fine . No worse than camping.” Allura spins on her heel to face Kima, a flurry of golden braids and blue skirts, eyes blazing and obviously ready to argue. Kima’s all too familiar with that tumultuous look, but she’s half as tall and twice as stubborn so she matches the intensity of the wizard’s gaze, shoulders squared. “Listen,” she says, stepping over Allura’s attempts to get a word in, “You’re stretching yourself thin enough as it is – don’t argue with me, you know it’s true. I’ll be in and out of Whitestone all the time helping people and Vox Machina and whatnot. You should take the bed and when I’m around, I’ll sleep on the floor. You need to be getting a decent night’s sleep when you can. We can’t have you dropping dead of exhaustion when you’re such an instrumental part of keeping everybody here safe!” I care too much about you to let you work yourself to death. Those are dangerous words – words best left unsaid, so Kima swallows hard around them and focuses on staring down the stubborn wizard.
“We’ve shared smaller beds before,” Allura points out, frowning and determined to find some small way to be right in this instance. “And I’ve never once accused you of being the reason I didn’t get a proper rest.”
It’s a wholly untrue statement – Kima can count a number of times she was left with the blame for the wizard’s lack of rest. A number of very enjoyable times . Times she was rather proud of in the moment. Times long past. “Yeah well,” she sputters, “We were – young then. We got a lot more on our plates nowadays, too. You more than me – which is why you should take the bed and not fight me on it.”
Young – it isn’t what Kima means to say, but the courage to bring up their past dissipates before she can find the words. They havent discussed it once. Oh, they’ve danced on tiptoes around long-buried feelings and left vague implications of apologies for past scathing words scattered around their interactions since Kima’s return from the Underdark. But not once has either of them brought it up directly. It’s for the best, Kima thinks, probably. They’re still close – even if there’s fifteen years of undiscussed emotion bubbling under the surface of it all. She’d rather have Allura in her life this way than not at all.
“ Young ,” Allura scoffs, pulling Kima from her reverie, “Fifteen years ago? Are you saying I’m old now? We humans are so fragile, after all. And a wizard at that! Heavens, it’s a wonder I made it out of adolescence in my weakened state, isn’t it!” She means it as a joke, Kima thinks, but the words come out harsh – sharpened to a point – an undeniable edge to them as Allura heaves an ugly, frustrated laugh, “Do you think I might throw my back out if I cannot have a whole bed for myself? You really think so little of my health? You might have well over a hundred years left in your future, but do not make the mistake of thinking I’m anywhere close to the end of my time.”
“What– No! That’s not– you know that’s not what I meant, Allie.” The nickname escapes before she can stop it and there’s no correcting it once it’s said. “I - ah. Allura. I’ll take the floor.”
She doesn’t argue any further, thankfully, but Kima swears that as Allura turns away, there’s a faint flush to her cheeks. “Fine,” Kima hears her say as she moves to finish unpacking. Perhaps she’s imagining things – seeing signs where there oughtn’t be any, but Kima is almost sure there’s a familiar playful haughtiness to Allura’s voice as she says, “I’ll find you some extra blankets then.”
It’s truly a miracle they never killed one another when they were younger, Kima thinks as she shoves some of the few belongings that she’d brought with her from Vasselheim into a small chest of drawers, remembering how opposed she'd been to having Allura join them in the first place...
“You’ve got to be kidding me – her ?!”
“Believe it or not, she was the strongest applicant, Kima,” Dohla says, unimpressed with Kima’s short outburst.
“Stronger than that one guy? He blew a hole in the floor!”
“He did – practically had a foot in the grave for it, too,” Drake weighs in.
“Has she even seen a fight before?”
The aforementioned young woman rolls her eyes from where she’s waiting a few feet behind the whispering group, “ She can hear you, you know?”
Drake smacks her on the shoulder. It’s not strong enough to actually do any damage, but it does send the halfling staggering backwards as the dwarf chuckles and redirects his attention to the younger wizard, “That’s Kima. Ignore her, if you like – she’s like that with all of us.”
“I see,” comes the response, but the wizard seems not to have anything else to say as she regards the scowling halfing.
She looks obscenely young – fresh out of school and itching to make her mark on the world – the hope in her wide eyes makes Kima want to scream. She’s not going to last two weeks with them! Whether she leaves screaming at their first encounter or gets herself killed at the nasty end of a rusty pike, is anybody’s guess. Kima’s vote is with the nearly dead guy – at least he’s seen combat.
She’s out-voted anyways so what does it matter?
That night, over drinks in a decently rowdy tavern, Ghenn leans over and prods her side, “I give her a month,” he says, grinning.
“Two weeks.”
“That little?” Sirus slinks down in the seat opposite Kima, their smile mirroring Ghenn’s. “I think she’s got enough wit to last her at least half the next year. Pretty thing like her’ll get sick of the road soon after that long for sure, though. And with a lot as ugly as the rest of you? Nah, she’ll move on quick.”
“Watch who you’re calling ugly, Sirus,” Ghenn retorts, sliding them his mostly empty tankard which Sirus catches expertly and finishes with a grin – damn rogue. There’s a spark in Ghenn’s eyes when his attention returns to Kima. “Feelin’ confident ‘bout that guess, Kima?”
“When’m I not?”
“Five gold?”
“ Five gold?! ” Sounds like easy money to her. “To see who’s right about when she’s taking off? You’re on –– and you’re a sucker.”
“Vysoren,” Ghenn shouts across the bar, Allura’s blonde hair and pretty dress (because strictly objectively speaking, it is a very pretty dress) whipping around her as she spins to face him, “It’s official, kid! Welcome to Shit Luck!”
The tavern goes silent. A beat.
“That is not your party’s name.”
They all laugh and raise their glasses. People cheer and the crowd returns to its revelrous state. They’ve found their wizard. Well, their second one, but no one is turning down a reason to celebrate.
An hour or so later, the young woman herself occupies the seat next to Kima. The rest of the party is nowhere to be found – likely at the bar or off finding something more entertaining to do than drink themselves into a stupor. For a while, she doesn’t say anything at all, but after a particularly long drink, her attention turns to the halfling, “You don’t like me much, do you?”
The question comes out of nowhere and Kima sputters on her beer, caught off guard, “I- you- huh?”
“I just- you haven’t stopped pouting since everyone else made it official. If you’ve a problem with me, I’d appreciate it if you would speak to me about it instead of sitting and glowering – not that I can imagine what I could’ve done in the few hours I’ve been with your party."
A lot of reasons for arguing so strongly against Allura joining them comes to Kima’s mind. However, a good few hours of drinking has her dumbly spitting out, “You’re… Pretty .”
Allura looks taken aback by that and her cheeks go an even prettier rosy pink as she demures, “Lots of adventurers are pretty. All the stories –”
“It’s not that – you- I- There’s a difference.”
“I see. And you think I’m unfit for your adventures solely because you think I’m pretty ?”
The question surprises Kima. More than that, the incredulous way it’s asked surprises her and she has to stop herself from looking the younger wizard up and down. She’s attractive – very pretty as has already been established. Big, blue eyes and perfect, porcelain features – any man might be dying to snatch her up and whisk her off to who knows where. Already, they’ve scowled away a decent handful. She’s prim. Almost annoyingly vain – who has hair almost down to their ass and wants to go get tossed around by a banshee or face off with a gelatinous cube? She’s pretty like you might expect a Lady to be – soft. Allura Vysoren is not cut from the cloth required of an adventurer and Kima’s sure of this. So why waste everyone’s time?
Kima must stammer for too long – staring at Allura, because the wizard gives a short humph and stands to go, “Well, I suppose we’ll see about that, won’t we?” The wizard’s words are phrased as a question, but something in her eyes intrigues Kima. They burn hot with determination and then she – Kima almost thinks she sees Allura look her up and down, but she squares her shoulders, turns on her heel and is gone before Kima can confirm.
Six and a half months later, Sirus, Ghenn, and Kima drop fifteen gold into a surprised Allura’s hand, all grinning sheepishly.
A knock on the door of the cottage pulls Kima from the memory. She hears Allura answer it and slams the chest of drawers shut before going out to the main room to see who’s come calling. Allura’s thanking a messenger and shutting the door behind him when Kima walks up.
“Vox Machina’s returned – Cassandra’s asked if we can be at dinner at the castle tonight to catch them up with everything we’ve been working on.”
“Oh no, I don’t do fancy dinners–” There’s something about the sad look Allura fixes her with that makes Kima reconsider. This damn wizard has too much sway over her. “Ugh, fine – since the lady doth insist, I’ll go to dinner with you. But if any of those chucklefucks try to drag you into working late tonight, they’ve got another thing coming…”