Chapter Text
“And there she is! The star of the village, the shining sun, the guiding light of the people of the world! But! Does she have a moment to spare for an old friend?!”
Magilou already had Eleanor’s attention halfway into her dramatic announcement, but Eleanor only folded her arms and smiled as she let Magilou play up her theatrics to her heart’s content. The smile that graced her face cleared some of the exhaustion straight off.
“Of course I do. It’s good to see you, Magilou! What’ve you been up to since I saw you at the capital?”
“Oh, a little of this, a little of that…” The witch tossed her hands from side to side as she spoke, giving Eleanor a sly sideways look. “A little birdie told me you’ve been granted royal resources to fund your rebuilding efforts! It even comes with free food!”
“Yes, but it’s not for me. It’s for the people whose homes were ravaged during the…ordeal,” Eleanor replied with a wince. Magilou couldn’t help but giggle at the way Eleanor’s face twisted as her green eyes narrowed in suspicion. “That’s not what you’re here for, is it?”
It wasn’t, but Magilou’s grin was blithe and shameless—who would doubt it? “Perhaps! I’ve worn out the soles of my shoes a thousand times over as I traveled the world, keeping notes of our true history…Would just a bite to eat be too much to ask of the Shepherd? I’m homeless too, you know!”
“By choice. I’ve invited you to stay with me a thousand times, not that it matters much to you.” Still, Eleanor gestured for Magilou to follow her as they set off through the still-in-progress village.
It didn’t even have a proper name yet. When two of the local hamlets had been reduced to mush thanks to a monster attack that had occurred back when Artorias and his ilk were still active, the citizens had been reduced to huddling in shantytowns built along the river. Now that the malevolence had been cleared out and (relative) peace had been restored to the land, Eleanor had spearheaded the reconstruction efforts, electing to create one brand new town with inhabitants of both places, incorporating the cultures of all involved. It was coming along pretty well, Magilou supposed. Skeletons for houses were being pulled into place and a well had been dug out in roughly the middle of the town. The only two things actually finished were the inn and the tavern—because nothing motivated construction workers like booze and beds.
Magilou had seen her fair share of sleazy establishments, but this tavern—oh so creatively called “The Watered Flock”—was still brand spanking new and shiny. Had a bit of class. Magilou couldn’t wait to see how quickly it’d fall apart, like rust tarnishing steel.
“Take a seat. I’ll get you something to eat,” Eleanor offered.
“Oh? Are you a part-time bartender now?”
Eleanor chuckled as she stepped into a backroom. “No,” she called from around the corner, “but Gerald is on watch duty until sunset. And everyone’s already had their lunch break, so we’ll have some time to catch up.”
“How convenient! The stars are really working in my favor today.”
She could almost see Eleanor roll her eyes. “Is Bienfu not with you?”
“Oh, he’s here. Just dozing on a rooftop. He fell asleep ‘watching over’ all the girls down by the river doing laundry.”
“I can’t say that I’m surprised. In a way, it’s kind of reassuring to know he’s the same as ever.” Eleanor stepped up to the counter with a bottle of nonalcoholic cider, an apple, and a sandwich containing some kind of dark meat that had probably been harvested from a monster. “Here. This is what everyone had for lunch today, myself included. If you want something more filling—”
“You’re going to make me work for it, aren’t you? Oh, the betrayal!”
“…And yet you’re eating it anyway.” Eleanor shook her head, but there was nothing harsh about the gesture. She pulled up a stool and sat beside her, hands primly on her lap.
…It was kind of weird how much of her behavior had boiled down to being predictable. Magilou felt as if she could read Eleanor’s entire history based on her face alone. But then again, Eleanor had always been an easy read. The girl was more emotional than a housewife who caught her husband in bed with another woman. More teary-eyed than a granny remembering the bygone era of her youth. More beautiful than—
Stopping that train of thought right there, Magilou kept eating her apple, popping the cork out of the cider with one hand. “Hey, a meal’s a meal! And one shared with the Shepherd on top of that. I’ll have to add it to my memoir.”
“How is that coming along, anyway?”
“I’ll tell you If you can remember what I called it.”
Eleanor sighed, and Magilou’s eyes gleamed wickedly.
“Really? Would you be willing to accept another apple instead?”
“The audience reels in shock! Gasp! Don’t tell me you’re re trying to bribe your way to victory. Did the Lord of Calamity corrupt you more than I thought?”
Eleanor’s nose wrinkled in that adorably offended way of hers. She hated it when anyone called Velvet the “Lord of Calamity”. (Magilou did too, but because she hated it, she just had to make fun of it.)
“Absolutely not. It’s just your names are a little too—”
“Creative? Awe-inspiring? Life changing?”
“—strange for me to easily remember. But, fine. Let’s see.” Eleanor stroked her chin, dropping her gaze. Magilou pointedly (and loudly) sipped straight from the bottle of cider just to annoy her. Because she really was so cute when she was annoyed.
“Was it…Magilou’s Magnificent Memoirs of Momentous Moments?”
“Bzzt! Ohhh. So close. You’re missing just an itsy bitsy bit.”
“Really?” Eleanor blinked. “What is it?”
“Buy a vowel for one apple!”
“Magilou! Really?!”
“Buy a consonant for another sandwich!”
“Knowing you, you’ll say I’m missing some long and complex word just so you can get more food out of me.” Eleanor’s twitching lips betrayed the fact she was trying not to smile, which Magilou took as a good sign. Poor Eleanor was always working so hard.
“I’m a witch, not a crook, you know!” she replied with mock offense.
“I’m beginning to wonder if there’s much of a difference between the two.” Eleanor finally grinned in spite of herself. “Would the…wonderfully whimsical witch be willing to whisper a word of wisdom to me? A hint?”
Magilou’s jaw dropped, and she nearly spilled the cider on herself. “Well, what do you know? Eleanor! There might be hope for you yet! To think that you actually have a bit of creativity in that too-serious head of yours!”
“A bit of—?! I’m plenty creative! I mean, not like you, but I—Well—”
Just look at her! She was so flustered! Magilou felt her shoulders shaking from suppressed laughter and she decided to place the bottle down before she ruined her freshly cleaned clothes. (Though it wasn’t as if she tidied herself up when she went to visit Eleanor or anything. Of course not.)
The witch lifted a single finger, taking pity on the poor Shepherd. “It’s Munificent Magilou’s Memoirs of Momentous Moments.”
“’Munificent’. I knew it’d be an odd word like that. I must admit, your vocabulary is rather impressive.”
“Well, when you’re as well-traveled and educated as I am…”
“The Abbey was big on education.”
“And look where ‘education’ got it! There’s nothing a book can teach you that personal experience won’t ram into your head a thousand times better!”
Eleanor’s tone was deadpan. “And yet you parade around with books for a skirt.”
“’You are what you wear’, as the saying goes.”
“Don’t you mean ‘the uniform makes the man’?”
Magilou winked. “But we’re not men.”
Sighing, Eleanor took Magilou’s cider and sipped it herself. Magilou arched an eyebrow, debating making a thousand comments and instead settling on just this very suggestive look.
“…What? I forgot how tiring talking to you can be.”
“Alas, I’ve driven the young Shepherd to the bottle already!”
“You don’t have to keep calling me that. I’m just Eleanor. The same Eleanor as always.”
“Uh huh. With your freakishly high resonance and world-famous combat prowess, but, you know. Just Eleanor. I guess that just means you’ve always been amazing.”
…She blushed.
Eleanor blushed, red from ear to ear, the hue spreading across the bridge of her nose, and for some reason, for some really weird reason, Magilou found herself staring at it. Her. It.
“Magilou?”
Her.
“Yeeees?” She snapped back to herself with a smirk.
Eleanor gave her a bit of a curious look, but shook her head, probably writing it off as Magilou just being Magilou. “I’m happy to see you, but I have to get back to work helping the others. I’d love to talk some more after the day’s over, though. I’m sure you’ve had to make a long journey just to get here, so why don’t you rest at my room in the inn? I’ll give you my key.”
Unfailingly compassionate as always. In truth, Magilou had only been on the road for a few days since her last stop, but she wasn’t going to mention that.
“Yes! I’ve braved blizzards, beasts, and the banalities of Bienfu on the long, winding road here—”
“And it means you’re too tired to help.”
“Just for today, maybe.” Magilou winked, folding her arms behind her head, her meal all finished in the blink of an eye. As far as simple meals went, it was satisfying enough. Had that home-cooked feel.
Eleanor rolled her eyes again, reaching into her pocket and placing a simple brass key into her palm. It was the kind of thing that would lock a door that Magilou could probably pick faster than she could get the blasted thing in. “It’s the last door at the end of second floor hallway.”
“Thanks!” Eagerly snapping up the promise of a nice bed to rest on—and the ability to duck out of work, on top of that—Magilou leaped to her feet with far too much energy for an exhausted person to have. “I’ll let you know about the status of my memoirs once you’ve finished playing Good Samaritan for the day.”
“You’re not such a bad person yourself, Magilou.” Eleanor put a hand on her hip. “Keeping records on the truth of what happened…That’s a noble, selfless thing to do. I can’t help but think you’d write it the best out of any of us. Like I said, you do have a certain way with words…”
“What way did you think I meant? I was just referring to your impeccable sewing ability!”
“I—! Ugh.” Pressing two fingers to her temple, Eleanor let out a deep sigh. “You should come around more often, Magilou. When you stay gone for so long, I start to get too used to normal conversation.”
“Hey, that one was completely on you. Did you really miss me so much?”
Eleanor opened her mouth to reply, but just then, the door opened and in came a young man with hair like a stray cat and a mustache that resembled a sleeping rodent. Quite the combination, if Magilou did say so herself.
“Miss Eleanor! There you are!”
“Yes. Forgive me for disappearing so suddenly. A friend stopped by.” Eleanor inclined her head toward Magilou, suddenly all business. “Is everything all right?”
“The boys and I were just lookin’ for your input on the new sign we’re paintin’.”
“Of course. I’ll be right over.”
The man left with a nod, and Eleanor made to follow. Sunlight streamed in through the door and bathed her in gold. “As I was saying, get some rest, Magilou, I’ll be up shortly after sundown once I’ve got everything settled.”
“Sure, sure! Toodles! Send Bienfu up to the room too if you see him!”
With one final nod, Eleanor was gone.
Magilou exhaled loudly, reclining back against the tavern counter and grabbing the cider again. Shame it was non-alcoholic, but it was sweet and filling nonetheless.
…And Eleanor had just so casually touched her lips to it. She really should’ve said something. Maybe she would’ve gotten her to blush again.
Magilou gave a light chuckle, bringing the bottle to her mouth—
—and promptly dropping it back on the counter again as something tickled her throat the wrong way. A few seconds of undignified coughing later, and Magilou brought her hand away from her lips to find something stuck to her palm.
It was a pink orchid petal. Absolutely harmless looking, save for the faintest tinge of red. When she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, a tiny droplet of red also stained her skin.
Magilou’s expression went still.
She washed the taste out with another gulp of cider. Everything was clean. No red, no flower petals.
Pinching the orchid petal between two fingers, Magilou lifted it up to eye level and laughed so hard that she cried.
All she could think was: Of course.
Of course this would happen again.