Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nott is woken up by the wind.

It had been a chilly night, she remembered. The last straw on top of a day gone completely terrible. Their little side quest to track down a witch terrorizing the travellers between Alfield and Trostenwald had taken two days longer than intended and put everyone in rough shape. Turns out, there were two witches in an odd alliance. One posed as a weeping woman on the side of the path while the other ambushed.

Unfortunately, the ruse worked all too well.

Nott had stayed at a distance and fired arrows from her crossbow while ducking between trees. The rest of the Mighty Nein dispatched the witches after a too-close battle. They were lucky that none of them fell unconscious during the fight, but Fjord had to be propped up by Yasha in order to make it to the cart.

It was a unanimous decision to camp somewhere nearby. Nott had not been hit in the fight, but she could tell the rest of them were struggling to stay upright. Which may have been normal after such a rough battle, but even Caleb was struggling to keep his eyes open, and he had kept the same distance Nott had.

Nott watched with growing concern as Caleb strung the alarm system around their cart, his hands fumbling with uncharacteristic lethargy, before beginning the ritual for their bubble-hut. They parked the cart off the worn path and tied the horses down, which Caduceus made sure had enough grass to munch on for the night, then settled into a semi-circle while Caleb worked on the ritual. Looking around her beaten group of friends, Nott noticed that the rest of them had the same odd exhaustion. Jester slumped against Beau and dozed on her shoulder while Yasha fiddled with firewood and matches - proven unsuccessful - and Fjord watched her with half-lidded eyes. Even Caduceus, who had murmured something about making tea earlier, appeared to have given up on the thought as he yawned, loudly, and put his tea bags back in his satchel.

Caduceus had been hit the most that day, by a series of poor circumstances, but Molly’s locket around his neck kept him from going down on them. That probably saved them the fight, if Nott was being honest; if they lost Caduceus, it was possible they all were going down.

For that reasoning, Nott was partially grateful for his friends taking what they could from Molly. It felt wrong at the time, and still did - if given another chance, Nott would keep to her word - but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t grateful that Caduceus had the necklace.

A superstitious part of her thought it was like their dear friend was still helping them from beyond the grave. A naive, selfish thought that she’ll hold onto for as long as she could.

A chill wind swept through their makeshift camp and broke Nott’s thoughts. She watched Caleb murmur a Zemnian curse as the ritual was disrupted, and rub at his eyes.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s taking longer than I want, but I’ll get the bubble up.” He resumed his work, blinking the sleep from his eyes every few seconds.

Beau’s head tilted to look at him. “You too, huh?” Everyone around the camp bobbled their heads in unanimous understanding, and Nott eyed them with concern.

“Are you all feeling alright?” She asked. “The lot of you look like you’re ‘bout to pass out.”

Beau’s gaze shifted to her direction, her usual heated stare dulled with exhaustion. “You didn’t get hit by one of them.”

Nott would retort that out of the rest of them, Beau got hit the least, but she held her tongue. None of them seemed in a playful mood.

“It was odd, though,” Caduceus said, taking a seat by Nott and shaking himself awake. “Every hit felt like they took energy from us.”

“We’ll all be able to sleep here soon,” Caleb interrupted, and it was only a few seconds later that a dim bubble appeared around him, obscuring him from view.

Everyone huddled into the bubble with their bedrolls. Those like Beau and Yasha didn’t take the time to set up their entire bedroll, gave up halfway and passed out on top of it. Others managed to have the patience, but were instantly in deep sleep by the time their heads hit the pillows. Nott sat up for a few moments and listened to the sound of soft breathing. It was unusual, for her to be the last awake; with her size, she could curl up just about anywhere, and with how she’s lived these past few months, she could fall asleep on rocks if she needed to.

But now, in the dim space the bubble offered, she felt something twist in her stomach. Worry, for the rest of the group, which wasn’t a new feeling. She had latched onto Caleb early on in their friendship, had called him her boy more than once, and become something of a protective guardian over him. Thinking back to what Caleb had shared with her, the boy had no parents and was in desperate need of some guidance. Some part of her must have knew that when they met, with how easily she attached herself to him.

And now, that feeling expanded to the rest of the group. Well, most of the group. Jester certainly, despite the amount of trouble they end up getting themselves into, Nott cares very much for her wellbeing.

She cares a lot, and she’d hate to see the group hurt.

Nott made an attempt to keep watch for an hour, but ultimately decided that she was not going to stay awake all night and curled up in her bedroll, right beside Caleb.

Then she woke to wind.

Not only that, though. There were whispers; unfamiliar voices in a hushed conversation just a foot or two away. Nott drew a dagger she kept nearby and strained her ears to listen.

She could make out a harsh Empirian dialect, not unlike Beau, but this voice was higher pitched. It was hard to make out direct words, but they sounded like demands. Another, softer voice replied, sounding confused and frightened. A child’s.

It made Nott clench her fist around the dagger. She had no idea what was going on, but whoever thought it was a good idea to sneak up on them with a child as a hostage was about to have a mother’s wrath descend upon them.

Attempting to be subtle, Nott pulled the copper wire from her pouch and curled it around her fingers, and in an almost silent whisper, she messaged Caleb: Caleb there are people here and you should really wake up and surprise them or something youcanreplytothismessage .

As soon as the message was sent, she felt the lump beside her start awake, elicit a tiny gasp, and before Nott could wonder why it didn’t sound like Caleb at all, a high cry began to echo into the night air.

Nott sat up and whipped around, first taking in the tiny ginger haired, blue-eyed child with a heavy, dirty coat surrounding him wailing into the sky. Then her eyes slid onto the young teenager, who had long, messy dark hair surrounding her face, baggy monk clothing, and shuriken held in her hands as she snarled, her narrowed eyes darting around in the dark. Sitting curled up on the ground, staring wide-eyed at Nott, was a chubby half-orc child with two growing tusks poking out of his bottom lip.

Despite them being kids, they were all too recognizable. Doing a sweep around the camp, Nott noticed the rest of their group stirring at the sound of Caleb’s cry. Another soft whine joined him as Nott noticed a small firbolg sit up, a poof of pink on the top of his head, and a frown growing on his face from being woken up. A blue tiefling toddler sat up in the bedroll, looking around curiously instead of frightened, which Nott supposed was a good sign. Another, older child, no older than the half-orc, but her height made her appear closer in age to the young teen. She looked mildly grumpy from the wake-up, her hair the same color as before, but most of it hung loosely rather than in tight braids.

Getting over her shock of the situation, Nott returned her attention to Caleb and ran a hand across his head, shushing quietly in the way she used to when Luke got worked up. It only caused Caleb to gasp in surprise, eyes darting in the dark for wherever the mysterious hand came from. He looked to be around Luke’s age, or the age he should be by now, and it made Nott’s heart hurt.

“Who’s there!” Beau suddenly demanded, her hands shaking where they gripped the shuriken. It set off Caleb’s crying again and Caduceus’ whine, and Nott silently pressed her fingers to her temple.

“Beau, it’s just me, Nott the Brave,” Nott said, even though she started to suspect that they might not remember her. “I’m not going to hurt you.” If Beau was rough around the edges as an adult, Nott did not want to find out how she was when in the midst of puberty.

“How do I know that?” Beau said into the dark. “How do you know my name?”

To Nott’s relief, the sky was lighting up as the sun rose over the horizon. She sat up on her knees, once again trying to placate this younger Caleb, and looked to Beau, Fjord cowering behind her.

“I will explain soon,” Nott said, trying to rub soothing circles on Caleb’s back. “But first, will you please go check on Cad?” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the baby firbolg.

Beau’s guard momentarily let down, Nott glanced around at the other children, slowly stirring awake and sitting up. Nott cautiously kept her distance from Caleb, knowing well how children reacted to an unfamiliar adult. And well, as the sun rose and these tiny humans could see who she was, Nott will find out what kind of tales were spun for them about goblins.

While the darkness was on her side, she tried to whisper reassuring things to Caleb. “Everything is okay Caleb, just trust me and we’ll be alright. Okay?”

Caleb had mostly calmed down, but he looked in her direction through the dark with a confused knit brow. He had snot running down his nose and tear tracks drying on his cheeks, but his panic had subsided.

“My-My name is Bren,” He said, wiping under his nose. “Who are you?”

The name momentarily sent Nott for a loop. She took a second to be sure that she was talking to Caleb and not some random child apparently named Bren. But there was no mistaking those bright blue eyes, the same ones that Nott had grown so fond of.

“Right,” She said. “Bren. Everything will be okay.” Caleb has some questions to answer whenever he gets back to normal.

Caduceus’ whines had quieted, and Nott looked up to find Beau standing over him. Not quite helping, more observing as the sun rose and allowed her to see better. Caduceus - no more than a toddler, appearing younger than Caleb, though Nott is unfamiliar with how firbolgs age - cranes his neck up to Beau, looking more enamoured by her appearance than afraid of the situation anymore.

Yasha stayed tucked in her bedroll, observing the scene and staying quiet. Fjord had not moved from his spot, glancing at Nott nervously with his blanket tucked up to his chin.

She scanned the area and her heart leapt into her throat as she realized one was missing. She was about to stand and call for Jester, when she spotted a blue ball crawling near her. Big eyes looked up at Nott, and for a moment, she thought Jester might burst into tears at seeing a goblin; but instead, a bright grin burst on her face and she giggled at being caught.

“Hi! I’m Jester,” She said, in a half-attempt at a whisper. She appeared the same age as Caleb.

“Hi Jester,” Nott said, in a tone meant only for the little ones, “I’m Nott. This is...Bren. Why don’t you two talk…?” She not-so-subtly pushed Jester closer to Caleb and began to stand, intending to approach Beau.

The darkness had mostly subsided, and maybe her hood had been covering her face, but as she stood up, Caleb met her eyes and let out a shriek.

“ Goblin! ” He cried, kicking backwards to get away, but his baggy clothes surrounding him made it a battle to get any movement.

At his shriek, Beau whirled around and held up her shuriken, eyeing Nott with a scoff. “Of course it’s a fucking goblin .” She reeled an arm back and threw a shuriken, but young Beau had a lot less skill in throwing knives, and it swooped in a wide arc and embedded itself in the cart nearby.

Nott held up her hands in a surrender gesture. “Gods, please don’t throw any more of those, there are children .”

A moment of guilt and fear flashed across Beau’s face before she schooled it, continuing to hold the shurikens in a threatening way, but she appeared less certain about attacking. “Fine. What the hell is happening?”

Nott sighed, pinching her nose. This was an awful clusterfuck of a situation.

“I’ll explain,” Nott said, glancing at the rising sun. “But first: how about breakfast?”

She somehow got the kids wrangled together around what remained of their fire last night - a pile of logs and twigs with a few black spots from matches - and Beau kept her shuriken close but not aimed at Nott anymore, so that was a plus.

Caleb had ducked away from her with a fearful whine, gripping onto Beau’s leg to hide, and it pained Nott’s heart. If he was only a few years younger, then the tales of goblins wouldn’t have affected him as much.

She managed to corral the younger kids - who appear, as Nott inspected them, to be Caduceus, Jester, and Caleb, all under 5 years - in the inner circle with the older kids - Fjord, Yasha, and Beau, around 10 to 13 - on the outer ring. Nott dug through their rations of bread and cheese and apples and whatever else they picked up before they left Alfield, and she passed them out to each kid. Jester was the least afraid out of everyone; she happily took what Nott offered without a second thought. Yasha was placated but wary, and eyed the ration Nott held out before taking it. Fjord just seemed skittish, tentatively eating the ration while eyeing the entire group. Beau and Caleb were pressed together, Beau almost protectively latching onto him, and Nott was surprised; the two didn’t have the best relationship as adults, something like awkward siblings if Nott were to put a label on it, but as children, it was almost…

Almost like Nott and Caleb.

She tried not to let that idea turn into something sour.

Caduceus, as the youngest, needed the most help. He was unfazed of her goblin nature - which made Nott wonder if he even knew about goblins - and readily accepted the help, as Nott fed him and sliced up an apple with her dagger.

Jester had appeared at her side then, holding out her own apple with a smile. Nott only gave her a grin and began cutting her apple into slices, holding them out for her to munch down on. Nott found out soon after that Jester was something of a picky eater; she refused to eat cheese and wanted her bread ‘peeled’. A statement that had Nott snickering and filing it away for later.

Nott had just finished feeding Caduceus bits of bread and cheese when Beau stood, apparently fed up by the stalling. She stood up, Caleb gripping her calf, and fixed Nott with a hard stare.

“So, what’s the story?” Beau asked, crossing her arms. She still had a smear of cheese on her lip. “Why have you kidnapped us?”

Nott shifted uneasily on each foot. She had a story, but she wasn’t the greatest liar. She depended on the fact that these were kids, and kids were gullible. Hopefully. “I’m not a normal goblin. Yes, you were taken, by a goblin clan, but I rescued you because….” Shit shit shit . “Because I am actually a halfling disguised as a goblin, and it is my mission to save children from goblin clans.” What the fuck!!!!

Beau raised an eyebrow. The other kids watched Nott with wide eyes, and perhaps because it wasn’t far from the truth, they easily believed her story. Beau was the skeptical one.

“So what do ya really look like?” She asked, almost smug, in the annoying way young teens were. Nott resisted rolling her eyes.

Using a small wave of her hand, Nott cast Disguise Self as her true form, her previous form, Veth Brenatto. She bowed, dramatically, and smiled at Beau.

“The disguise I use is….permanent,” Nott stumbled with an explanation. “I can only show my true self for a short time.” And with a snap, her disguise drops, and she is Nott the Brave once again.

“Sounds dumb,” Beau remarked.

“I lost my family to the goblins,” Nott said, strangely feeling truthful. “I want to be sure that doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

Beau’s face struggled to keep up her suspicious glare, but Nott could see she accepted the explanation. As she sat back down, Caleb nestled against her. Nott was unsure whether the younger kids understood her story, but she saw Yasha still eyeing her warily and Fjord watching her with something like awe. It was an expression she had never seen on Fjord, especially not aimed at her. It was...strange. And made Nott feel oddly smug. Something to tease him about later.

After everyone was finished, Nott stood and clapped her hands together. “In order for me to return you guys home, we need to take a trip.”

Beau stood up, pulling on her baggy monk vistages, and Nott wondered whether it was normal for a young human to be so thin. Beau may have been small as a teen, but her voice was just as powerful and demanding, if more so. “Where?”

“I have a friend in Felderwin,” Nott said, beginning to pick up the forgotten clothing and bedrolls. “We’ll go through Alfield and make our way there. Should take….Little over a week. Maybe two.”

Beau let out something like a whiny scoff, but Nott was too busy wondering how to fashion diapers from the rags they kept for emergencies. She had no idea how well potty-trained the youngests were and she didn’t want to take any chances.

Not only that, but the kids needed children-sized clothing. Nott did what she could after packing away their supplies in the cart. She tore apart one of Fjord’s spare shirts and used whatever rags they had to wrap up Caduceus, Jester, and Caleb into something that she hoped functioned like a diaper. With the chill in the air, she couldn’t risk not dressing them either, so with her rarely-used sewing kit and dagger, she put together miniature nightgowns for the youngest three. Her stitches showed and their spare shirts were thin, but Nott figured when tucked in the cart with a couple blankets that they should be fine.

Caduceus and Jester, while they squirmed as Nott dressed them, showed no sign of distress as she slipped the gowns over their heads and tucked them in the cart with their coats and blankets. Caleb, after Beau gave him a nod, allowed Nott to do the same. After proving herself to be a nice goblin, he watched her with curiosity rather than fear. Nott found she preferred it that way.

Yasha was tall for her age, and while her old top hung loosely on her, it still did its job. Nott helped her tighten the laces to fit her better and then Nott went through her own stash of clothing - sparse but existing - and knew it would fit these kids better than their usual garb. So Nott gave Yasha a spare set of pants and while the outfit clashed, it worked better than nothing.

Fjord was much the same story. Despite being around Yasha’s age, he was small, if a bit wide. While Yasha was quietly compliant, Fjord was fearfully compliant. He had barely spoken a word since that hushed conversation Nott heard in the night. It was odd, to think Fjord was a skittish kid, but it made Nott’s job easier to tighten his old shirt to his size and, begrudgingly, fix him with another pair of her pants.

When you’re back to normal , Nott thought, tying Fjord’s tunic tighter. You owe me .

Beau had been reluctant to let Nott to help, but as she pulled at her vistiges every time she walked, she allowed some assistance. Nott did what she could to tighten the top and sash, but the pants hung loosely on Beau’s thin frame - and now that Nott was closer, she could see that her slimness was definitely not normal. Nott recognized it from her time with Caleb, shortly after they met; he was thin with malnutrition and being on the road for so long. Nott tried not to let her gaze linger, but the dread building in her gut wasn’t anything she could stop.

As she got the kids tucked in the cart, she wordlessly threw Beau another apple, then gave the reins a tug. The horses took off at a steady pace down the path, towards Alfield, as the kids leaned over the sides of the cart and awed at the moving trees. Privately, Nott smiled to herself.

Chapter Text

Veth loved kids. When Luke was old enough to go outside, she made it a point to introduce him to the rest of the kids in their village. She was often the supervisor when they went out to play, the one to pick up a child if they tripped and fell, or to pass out snacks as the hours ticked by. Veth was good with kids.

Nott was a different story. Nott doesn’t have a son and hasn’t taken care of a child once in her short lifetime. The goblin children back at the clan threw stuff at her and bit her if she got too close. Back at Nicodranas, she accidentally made a kid cry.

And now Nott had to take care of six children, all of varying ages and all requiring vastly different needs.

The first day of travel went surprisingly smooth. The children were all fascinated with the scenery and the occasional wildlife in the brush. Nott kept Caduceus closest to her, as the youngest, with Jester and Caleb tucked in blankets by him. He kept leaning to look over the edge of the cart, eyes wide, and occasionally reach a tiny hand out as if to grab at the shrubbery. He was too high up and his arm much to short, but it was an adorable sight watching a baby firbolg try to pick a flower.

Nott almost missed Yasha jump over the side of the cart, if she hadn’t shaken everyone inside. Nott straightened, tugging on the horses to slow into a stop.

“Yasha!” Nott called, but forgot what else she was going to say as she watched the child bend down in a flowerbed and collect a bouquet of bluebells.

She made her way back to the cart with an armful of her find, and climbed up the side with little effort. Kneeling, she gave one flower to Caduceus, who gripped the stem in tiny fists. There was a moment where he observed the flower, and Nott’s instincts knew exactly what was turning over in that baby firbolg’s brain. She snatch the flower from his hands as he opened his mouth to bite down, meeting air, and gave Nott an innocent, wide-eyed look.

“We don’t eat flowers, Caddy,” She said, switching to her motherly tone almost automatically. “They can make your belly hurt.” Instead, she tucked the flower into Caduceus’ puff of pink fluff on the top of his head, and he nearly crossed his eyes to look at it. She couldn’t keep a fond sigh from escaping her lips.

Yasha had passed out flowers to the rest of their party while Nott was busy with Caduceus. Jester had watched Nott tuck the flower into his hair, and stood up with the blossom in one fist.

“Put this one in my hair!” She demanded, with almost more enthusiasm than what she showed as an adult.

Even though it was Jester that spoke up, they all had eyes on Nott that she recognized; too shy to ask for the same thing. Even Beau, who pretended to look interested in the trees passing by and not paying attention to the blossom in her hand. Softly, Nott sighed.

“Beau,” Nott called. “Take the reigns for a bit?”

Beau faltered. “I don’t know how….”

Nott gestured her over. “It’s easy, come ‘ere.”

Beau settled in the seat beside her and Nott ran her through the basics. How to stop, to slow down, and to go faster were the only ones Nott knew and what she tried to teach to Beau. Nott usually wasn’t the driver of their cart, but she knew enough to get them where they needed to go.

“I’ll be only a little bit, just call for me if you need anything,” She reassured Beau, who gripped the reigns with something like determination, and nodded.

Jester had been growing restless, and Nott found her pouting, arms crossed and her bottom lip puckered as she made a show of stomping her feet. The blossom was still in her fist, and she glared up at Nott.

“You took so long!” Jester accused, stomping her foot to prove her point.

“I’m sorry, Jess.” Nott knelt in front of her. “I had to take some time to teach Beau how to drive.”

“My Mama always has time for me,” Jester pouted, her homesickness thinly veiled by her stubborn sulking.

Nott couldn’t help an amused smile. “I’ve got time for you now. You wanted your flower in your hair?”

Jester nodded, her face still set in an exaggerated scowl. Nott sat down with her back against the cart and gestured for Jester to sit in front of her. She did so, stomping her feet as she went, before plopping just before Nott’s lap.

Nott ran her fingers through Jester’s hair. A dark blue, darker than the bluebell, and was much longer than the bob she had as an adult. Her horns were small fuzzy stumps in the midst of her hair, barely seen through the mess. Nott used her fingers to gently comb through the knots until Jester’s hair hung loosely just past her shoulders. Using spare strips of fabric, Nott tied her hair into two pigtails and stuck the flower in one.

Jester had calmed down from the moment Nott began to comb her hair. She stood up with a smile, her fingers gently running up to brush the blossom, before giggling and rushing up to every member of the cart to show it off.

Nott approached Caleb next, who had looked longingly at Caduceus earlier. He still held his bluebell, running a gentle finger over the blossoms in between watching the world around him. Nott kept her distance. She knelt a foot away until she had his attention, his wide blue eyes showing uncertainty but with a growing curiosity.

“Would you like one in your hair?” Nott asked, and hastily tacked on, “Bren?”

Caleb looked to Jester, who was in an enthusiastic conversation with Fjord. He looked confused from whatever she was saying, but nodded along in a placating way. Caleb turned back to Nott and nodded.

Nott settled behind Caleb and ran her fingers through his hair. His hair was short and well-kept, light brown shot through with ginger that hung naturally wavy and thin just past his ears.

A distant memory of Luke came to mind, of combing his hair just like this, before going outside to play. Nott’s fingers slowed as the memory swept over her, a thick nostalgia momentarily taking her breath away. One of the pieces she had lost to her transformation.

How could she have forgotten the feeling of her own son’s hair?

Without realizing it, she had leaned forward until her lips pressed onto the top of Caleb’s head. He smelled like Caleb, and yet not; the smell of soot and ash had not yet permanently etched themselves into every wrinkle of his skin. But then there was that fresh, earthly scent that seemed to accompany every human, and with it, the smell that was just Caleb; a buzzing copper scent, like metal electrified with arcane energy.

“Nott?” Caleb’s small voice broke her out of her stupor. “Is the flower in my hair yet?”

Nott reeled back, lightheaded. “Ah, almost. One moment.” She let her fingers comb through a few seconds longer, indulging herself, before finally slipping the bluebell behind his ear. She pat his head as she finished, and he ran a gentle hand against the blossom.

“Thank you,” He said, softly, before joining Jester. She skipped in place at seeing Caleb’s flower, and they took their time examining each other’s hair.

Nott rested her chin in her hand, watching. It was like watching Luke go off to play with the other kids of the village. That deep, melancholy ache within her as he grew up and didn’t need her as much anymore. Then a stinging worry that he’ll have the same experience as she did growing up. She kept an eye on the village kids for this reason, under the guise of supervising to defend her son when need be. He needed her just as much she needed him.

A tall presence beside her made Nott jump. Yasha had appeared, shifting in place, a handful of bluebells in her fist. She opened her mouth to say something, closed it, then watched Nott with a silent question.

Nott patted the space in front of her and Yasha shyly smiled. She sat down in front of Nott and handed her the small bouquet of bluebells. Nott had to stand in order to reach her head, but she didn’t mind.

Yasha’s hair was knotted and ratty, not as nearly dreaded as Nott was used to seeing, but not easy to comb through. Nott figured it wasn’t meant to be combed like that, and instead, she did her best to style it in the way she always saw Yasha had it. She took the time to fold small braids on the sides of Yasha’s head, slipping a bluebell every few folds. Once she was satisfied, she tried to replicate the complicated knot on the top of Yasha’s head, but ultimately ended up with another thick braid. She tied it off halfway and let the rest fall loosely past her shoulders, then set to tucking bluebells into the strands.

Once Nott was finished, Yasha’s hair was a intricate series of black and white braids with bright dots of bluebells tied in. Yasha ran a hand over the braids in wonder, smiling to herself as she felt the shapes. She stood up, wobbling as the cart ran over a rough bump, and smiled at Nott.

“Thanks,” She said, quietly, before sitting down at the back of the cart, running a soft hand over her hair. The soft smile stayed on her face.

Nott scanned across the cart and watched the young ones converse, playing with each other’s hair as if mimicking Nott. Beau still held the reigns confidently, occasionally glancing over her shoulder at the kids and smiling to herself. Yasha seemed happy by herself in the corner, watching the scenery or playing with the ends of her braids. Nott was about to address Beau next, when she caught sight of Fjord.

The half-orc child sat in another corner of the cart, blossom in hand, eyes glancing longingly to Yasha and then to Nott. When she caught his eye, he startled and looked away, pretending to have been observing the forest passing by. Nott sighed to herself, shoving aside her dislike for Fjord, and approached him.

“Fjord,” She said, kneeling. “You next?”

“Oh,” Fjord said, and Nott cocked her head as she realized something doesn’t sound right. “Y-yes, please, if you don’t mind.”

The accent that comes out of Fjord’s mouth has Nott blinking in surprise. Even as a young child, she expected something of his usual drawl, a staple of Port Damali. But what comes out is anything but.

She’s reminded of that one time, back on Avantika’s ship, where he seemed to speak in a different voice. Only for a moment, and he corrected himself right after. It didn’t make much sense at the time, and still doesn’t, but Nott is sure now that he faked his accent later in life.

Fjord began to furrow his eyebrows in concern and Nott realized she was staring. She braced herself against the wall of the cart and allowed Fjord to sit down in front of her, and repeated the process she did before.

Fjord’s hair as a child was black. He didn’t have the telltale shock of white streaked across his head. In addition, it was oddly more matted than Nott was expecting. Something close to Yasha’s, but her hair was cleaner. Fjord’s hair was long, shaggy to the base of his neck, and held out of his face from the matted dirt holding its shape. Nott ran a finger down the center and grimaced.

“When did you last have a haircut?” She asked, reaching for her dagger.

“Um.” Fjord looked down, as if ashamed. “Grelod gets upset if we ask for that.”

“Grelod?” Nott thought back to how Fjord usually had his hair. Shaved close on the sides and longer on the top. Maybe. She tried not to look at Fjord usually.

“Our caretaker at the orphanage.”

Oh, yeah. He did mention that once. Nott attempted to run her fingers through the thick strands and watched specks of dirt rattle on the floor of the cart. Reaching for her waterskin, she doused a spare rag over the side of the cart and began steadily cleaning the dirt from Fjord’s hair. Fjord initially flinched at the feeling, but stayed stock still as Nott worked her way through the matted hair.

“When was the last time you had a proper bath?” By the state of his hair and, now that Nott was paying attention, the sweaty odor he admitted had her guessing a few weeks.

Predictably, Fjord shrugged. Nott couldn’t tell if he genuinely couldn’t remember or if he was ashamed to say.

“Well, when we reach Alfield, I’ll find a bathouse for us.” Nott sectioned off Fjord’s hair into what she hoped was his usual hairstyle. “Do you mind if I give you a haircut?”

“Uh.” Fjord shifted in place, a hand subconsciously drifting to his head. “What are you going to cut?”

“Just shorter. Easier to take care of.” She ran a hand over the sides she sectioned off. “These shaved off.” She pat the top of his head. “And leave about an inch here.”

After a moment, Fjord shrugged again. “Sure. Just don’t make it bad. If Grelod thinks it’s bad, she’ll cut it all off.”

Nott sighed, unable to help the twist of anger in her gut. “Don’t worry. I’ll make you a handsome half-orc.” She resisted the urge to flinch at her own words. It was something she would never say normally, but Fjord being a child made her forget the reasons she ever disliked him. With the entire group as children, she reverted back to her motherly instincts. The urge to make sure that no child ever felt like she did as a kid.

She cut away the thick strands on either side of Fjord’s head. They hacked off in a way similar to rope, and she was glad to toss them over the side of the cart. She took her time shaving the hair close to Fjord’s scalp, until she was satisfied with the fuzz on either side of his head. Then she chopped off the top, tossing that over the side, and did her best to shape it to a decent length. Most of it was uneven, but it was much cleaner than what Fjord had before.

Nott ran the cloth over the strands again, removing any stray hair or dirt, before delicately placing the flower along the strip she remembered his streak of silver to be. She pat his shoulder when she was done, and Fjord delicately ran his hand over his shaven sides, his cropped hair, and the blossom that rested nearly on his forehead.

He looked more like the Fjord she remembered. Still many years younger, still with tucks not yet filed down, still without the confidence he used to wear like a well-worn coat. But now he looked a step closer, closer to that half-orc that grated on her nerves and yet is an unerring reminder of herself.

She almost regretted giving him that haircut.

Beauregard had been paying attention to the road, but Nott had been catching her watching. Short stares over her shoulder before she met Nott’s eye and darted back to focus on the road. Nott stood behind her and plucked the blossom that had been placed delicately on the seat beside her.

“Do you want a haircut too, Beau?” Nott asked, hand hovering above Beau’s long hair. Seeing her with such long hair was odd, after knowing her for so long with her undercut. Nott had begun to associate Beau to the tight bun tied with a ribbon. She was tempted to regain some sense of normalcy by chopping it all off right now.

But Beau shook her head. “Nah. My dad would kill me if I cut my hair.”

“...Right.” Nott quietly placed her dagger back by her side. She let her hands wander through the long strands of thick, wavy hair. It fell loosely past Beau’s shoulders, so Nott began to fold it into two braids, parted in the middle of Beau’s head. The familiar pattern was something Nott memorized a long time ago, even if she hadn’t used it on herself in a long time.

Truth be told, she didn’t like to touch her hair now. It was thin, stick-like, and too dark. Her hair as a halfling had been thick and shaggy, a brown color that shined gold in the sun. Or so Yeza told her. To Veth, it had always been plain and heavy, not pretty and not something to stare at, like he often did. A silly man, she had called him.

She never knew that she would miss it one day.

Nott tied off the two braids and slipped the blossom into one fold. Beau dropped a rein to reach back and feel the braids, and Nott was quick enough to grab the reins before they fell off the cart. Beau gave her a sheepish look.

“Sorry,” She said, offering a half smile. There was something pained in her eyes, but Nott couldn’t figure out what it was.

“It’s alright,” Nott brushed off, handing the reins back. “You can keep driving if you’d like. We’ll be camping out in an hour or two.” Which was something she’d have to figure out. Caleb was in no shape to summon the bubble they’ve been using as shelter for the past few months. Perhaps they still had the tents they used so long ago in Jester’s bag.

“You’re still letting me drive?” Beau asked, incredulous.

“If you want to?” Nott shrugged. “I can take over if you’re tired of it.”

“No!” Beau said, nearly dropping the reins again in her haste. She smiled again, half-afraid, and straightened, taking the reins in hand. “I can do it.”

Nott chuckled. She pat Beau on the shoulder. “Sure. Call for me if you need anything.”

Beau gave a jerky nod as Nott went back to supervising the children. She dug through Jester’s bag to confirm that yes, they still had the tents created from carnival canvas, and then Nott also discovered Jester’s art supplies. It gave her an idea, but with the sun going down, she filed it away for another day.

It was another hour before Nott took over driving the cart and pulled it off the path. Picking up Jester’s bag of holding, Nott pointed to Beau.

“You’re in charge until I get our tent set up.” Beau gave a jerky nod and watched the children with her arms crossed, uncertainty written on her expression. Nott wasn’t worried; even with the cart’s illusion hiding the children from sight, she’d be able to hear if anything went wrong.

Nott wrestled with the tents for the better part of an hour, slowly realizing she had no idea how to set the tents up. It had been a long time, and she only assisted her group in setting them up before. She stuck a pole in the ground, tore a bit of canvas as she nailed the edges down, and looked at her hard work with a grimace.

It was only one tent and it would have to do. Small, but the group was much smaller than before. Besides, Nott didn’t feel comfortable leaving the kids out of her sight at night.

She foraged for logs and sticks and dead grass and dig a small hole to put the pile. She stole Yasha’s matches earlier and, with her expertise in living in the woods for so long, she had a fire going within a few short minutes.

Nott gathered the kids into the tent. The three small ones lay side-by-side in Jester’s bedroll, and Nott tucked them in with two blankets. She showed the older kids how to set up their bedrolls, then allowed them to get settled. Nott gave them the extra blankets they had.

Her own bedroll was set up by the mouth of the tent, in between the kids and the fire, and she leaned against the pole to keep watch. Without Caleb’s alarm system, someone had to keep an eye out. Nott knew she wasn’t the best to catch potential threats, but she wasn’t about to ask Beau to stay up all night for her.

Nott only hoped they’d be lucky tonight and avoid trouble.

As Nott began to survey the darkness surrounding them, she heard movement in the tent. It was still too early for them all to have fallen asleep, but she saw a tiny figure sit up. Caleb.

“Ca-Bren, is everything okay?” Nott whispered.

Caleb gave a jerky nod. He seemed to want to ask something, and Nott allowed him a minute to think about it.

“Mama would read me a story before bed,” Caleb said, a hidden request.

“Do you want me to tell you a story?”

Caleb’s nod was visible in the dark. Nott sighed.

“Okay. You lay down and get comfy.” Once Caleb laid back down on the bedroll, Nott took a moment to think of a story. Glancing at Fjord, pretending to be asleep beside Yasha, she smiled.

“This is the story of a pirate named Captain Tusktooth…”

Chapter Text

When Luke was born, Veth and Yeza felt pulled in every direction. A newborn baby needed constant care, but their apothecary needed constant stocking. It was still new in their small village, but the townsfolk always needed potions for something or other. So while Yeza worked late into the night prepping potions for the week, Veth was rocking baby Luke and struggling to quiet him down.

He was a fussy baby during the first few months. Always woke up two or three times a night for something, and Veth or Yeza (they took turns; whenever it was Yeza’s turn, Veth would tap him three times on the forehead before turning back into her pillow) would struggle for an hour before he quieted down again. And the process repeats only a few hours later.

Running the apothecary at the same time wore them down. They would take shifts manning the front desk and watching Luke, but the added exhaustion from staying up half the night began to take its toll. So when Old Edith from down the road offered to babysit for a night, Veth and Yeza only put up a small fight.

Old Edith’s husband had passed away earlier in the year, and Veth supposed letting her have Luke for a night benefited them both. So Veth and Yeza had a full night’s sleep for the first time since Luke was born, and after that, parenting seemed to come easier to them. Luke got settled, and Veth felt they officially became a family unit, complete and whole.

This, though. This was worse.

Nott didn’t sleep at all. Every noise had her reaching for her dagger, and every time she felt she was nodding off, she reminded herself of the defenseless children beside her and pinched herself awake.

She didn’t have Yeza here, or Old Edith. She was alone, with six children, and she had to protect them.

However, it was after an hour on the road that the exhaustion truly set in. Nott had enough energy to get the kids tucked in the cart and feed them before they set off, but now that she was sitting down, she felt her eyelids suddenly weighed like a sack of grain. She started with a gasp when she nearly dropped the reins and rubbed at her eyes in frustration.

“Nott?” Beau’s voice made her turn. “If you want me to take over for a bit, I can.”

Nott opened her mouth to decline, but was taken aback by the concern on Beau’s face. She glanced up at the beaten path, empty except for their own cart, and looked up at the sky - it was still morning. They would hit Alfield tomorrow. The idea of driving the cart all day had Nott worrying about herself falling asleep at the reins.

“Alright, sure.” Nott handed Beau the reins as she settled herself in the driver’s seat. “I might try to catch up on some sleep. Wake me if you see any cart coming or if you need me for anything.”

Beau saluted. “Can do.”

Nott pat the heads of the other children as she passed them, running a gentle hand over brushed locks. The flowers have mostly fallen out at this point, but the braids and pigtails Nott had taken the time to tie mostly held up. She gathered her bedroll and set it up at the back of the cart, looking forward to a few hours of sleep.

As Nott sat down, she found Jester had wandered over. Jester giggled at being spotted and reached for Nott’s hand.

“Play with us Nott!” She demanded, tugging Nott’s hand.

“Jes, I’m about to take a nap,” Nott said, holding Jester’s hands between her own. “I can play with you after.”

Jester’s smiling face darkened, turning into a pout. She stomped in time to her words, “But I want to play!”

Nott sighed. She stood back up and found Jester’s bag of holding, searching for only a few minutes before pulling out Jester’s art supplies. As for paper, Nott had two options; Jester’s journal or Caleb’s stash for his spells. Weighing the two, Nott went with Jester’s journal and tore a few blank pages loose.

She knelt in front of the younger ones, laying the pieces of paper out, and prepping the paints.

“How about you draw something to bring back to your families?” Nott suggested, handing Caleb, Caduceus, and Jester a paintbrush. “You can show it to me when I wake up later.”

Jester brightened, taking a piece of paper and streaking a thick glob of red paint across her paper. Caleb hesitantly began with yellow, and Caduceus almost bit the paintbrush before Nott showed him how to paint.

She turned to the two older kids, who watched with interest. “You two can paint too if you want, I only ask that you don’t let Caduceus eat the paint.”

Yasha and Fjord nodded, and satisfied, Nott settled in her bedroll.

The sun was a problem, but Nott tucked her face under her pillow and listened to the sounds of playful children. Even if Jester occasionally let out an excited shout, it was soothing, having them so close and so happy. Nott drifted off, her worries at peace.

-

“ Mama! ”

Veth shook herself awake. For a moment she had no idea who she was or what she was dong; then it came to her like a clear memory. She was stocking the shelves of their apothecary. Bottles of Yeza’s latest batches of healing potions were in her arms and she was nodding off. She tsked at herself; what if she had dropped them?

She carefully placed the bottles on the shelf and called out over her shoulder, “Over here, honey.”

Luke found her in the back of their apothecary, holding a piece of paper in his hands. They had gotten him art supplies for his birthday. She had let him draw on the front desk while she went into the back.

“Mama!” He called again, approaching her. Veth set down the last bottle on the shelf and then knelt down to meet his eye level. He held the piece of paper out. “For you!”

“Aw, thank you sweetheart.” The picture had two figures, one outlined in blue with glasses on its face. She pointed to it. “Is that daddy?”

“Yeah!” Luke grinned and pointed to a light green figure. “That’s you!” A final, short orange figure stood between them. “That’s me. We make potions that kill the goblins!” There were bottle-shaped red dots being thrown across the picture and dumped on a herd of dark green figures. They all had angry faces drawn on them.

Veth chuckled to herself. “You’re a smart boy. I’m sure you could make a potion to kill all the goblins.” She pressed the picture to her chest. “Thank you, sweetheart.” She placed her hand on the back of Luke’s neck and pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his head. She ran her fingers delicately through the strands; light brown shot with ginger.

No, wait. Luke’s hair was brown. Just plain brown, like his mother. Like his plain, boring, not-pretty not-brave not-special mother.

Her breathing hitched and her hand tightened. She knew what was happening now, had this dream happen ten times over, but not like this. Not with him here. Only with Luke.

She couldn’t lose another child.

Even with her effort to hold on, Luke-Caleb-Bren was pulled from her hands and she reached out into the sudden darkness. Flames erupted from the walls; the potion bottles she had meticulously placed exploded. They burned on her skin; not healing, but acid.

A potion to kill all the goblins .

Her skin was green and sickly, her greasy hair fell in her face and she felt wrong, completely wrong , like she wore an ill-fitting tight shirt, like she was wrapped in a spider’s web and unable to get out, like she died and woke up the very thing she thought she was .

Not pretty. Not brave. Not good.

Just Nott.

-

A harsh bump in the road woke her. Her head bounced back on the hard floor of the cart as she realized she had moved in her sleep. Nott sat up with a groan, a hand rising to run over the sore spot on the side of her skull.

When she opened her eyes a second time, she found Jester watching her with wide, concerned eyes. “Did you get a booboo?”

Nott laughed softly. “A bit. But I’m alright.”

“Do you want me to kiss it better?” Jester asked, scooching closer. “My Mama always kisses my booboos better.”

She looked so concerned that Nott couldn’t say no. Nott bent her head and tapped at the area she hit. Jester kissed the spot with a loud smack and grinned at her.

“Thanks, Jes,” Nott said, rubbing the sore spot.

Jester stood up and pulled at her hand. “Come see what I drew!”

Nott laughed again and followed her. The other two youngests seem to have moved on from painting to another game. Yasha and Fjord have been roped into it but, even as older kids, they appear to be enjoying themselves.

Caleb, who turned from facing a wall of the cart, looked to them. “Jester, you lost the game.”

“I’m showing Nott what we drew!” She defended. “I said to wait for me!”

Caleb shrugged and turned back to the cart. Before Jester managed to tug her away, Nott heard him call out, “Ein! Zwei! Drei!” As he counted, Nott watched Fjord take large steps closer to him. Behind Fjord, Yasha held Caduceus’ hand as they took careful steps towards Caleb.

Before Fjord’s hand could tap Caleb on the shoulder, Caleb spun around and shouted, “ Halt! ”

Fjord’s hand hovered in the air as he froze in place. Behind him, Yasha helped Caduceus stand in place, but he wobbled as he tried to take a step and was held back. He looked around with wide eyes, not quite understanding the game, but his scrunched up nose and childish grin showed he enjoyed it nonetheless.

Nott got the gist of the game. She thought she might have seen the children in Felderwin play it, in Halfling instead of Zemnian.

“Over here!” Jester said, and Nott tore her eyes away to admire the line of paintings drying on the front end of the cart. Just below Beauregard, still manning the reins, were seven pieces of paper, dried in the sun.

“These ones are mine,” Jester said, sitting down to point at the first two. One was of Jester, a small blue blob with a smiley face draw on it, and beside her, a large red figure with long, black hair. The Ruby of the Sea. “That’s my Mama!” She said, pointing to the figure. In the corner of that picture, Nott caught the familiar tattoo design of Captain Tusktooth, recreated in an even more childish manner, somehow.

“It looks lovely,” Nott said, some nagging feeling in the back of her mind trying to recall back to her dream. It was a vague feeling of unease by now, like a fading memory.

“I’m gonna give that one to her,” Jester said, and then picked up her second drawing. “And this one’s for you!”

Nott blinked in surprise and took the drawing. It was similar to the first one, but instead of Marion beside Jester, it was Nott. A dark green blob with another smiley face, and above them, another faded green figure.

Nott tapped on it with a nail. “Who’s that?”

“That’s the Traveler!” Jester grinned. “He looks after all my friends if I ask him to!”

Nott huffed a laugh. She pressed the drawing to her chest. “Does that mean we’re friends, Jester?”

“Of course!” Jester leaned forward, almost conspiratorially, and whispered, “You could see the Traveler too, if you wanted. I could ask!”

“I’m alright Jes.” Nott pat her head. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome!” Jester grinned. She pointed to the other drawings. “Bren made something for you too, I think.” Then she turned and joined the game the kids were playing, picking a pose just as Caleb turned around. Nott smiled fondly and turned to the rest of the paintings.

She could pinpoint what one was Caduceus’ right away. He was still too young to create a scene, so his painting was made up of abstract paint splotches. One corner was pink, the middle was blue, there was a dark circle where he appeared to mix multiple paints, and then streaks leading out of it and across the page. It was a mess, but Nott knew that Caduceus would love it, especially when he returned back to his normal age.

She guessed which ones were Caleb’s. He had a similar penmanship to Jester at this age. She spotted a paper with three figures drawn on it, all with bright smiles, and Nott knew it must be Caleb with his parents. A house stood beside them.

Something in Nott was pained to see it. Knowing what Caleb would do, has done, to those figures in the painting. She wondered if she should hide it before the Caleb she knew returns.

Another picture laid beside that one. This one had another image of Nott, doused in the same dark green Jester used. Beside her was another figure, colored brown, and they held hands next to a campfire and a tent. Nott grinned at that one, a vaguely familiar fondness sweeping over her.

The last two were from Yasha and Fjord, or at least, that’s what Nott guessed. One had no figures; just rolling fields of green grass and blue flowers. Above, instead of a blue sky that Nott expected, there was grey clouds that darkened along the edges of the paper. She could almost make out a face in the clouds. Yasha, most likely.

The last one made her pause. It wasn’t a scene, but a collection of images. It took Nott a moment to figure out the connection between them. When she did, her breath hitched.

One was a long, green sword, with a drop of water falling from the tip. Nott would recognize the falchion anywhere, after seeing Fjord summon it so many times. She cast Fjord a calculating look over one shoulder.

The second image was of a yellow orb with an orange line down the center. The drawing was primitive, but it reminded Nott of the letter they found, the one that lead them to Avantika. The Coven Crystal.

The third image made a chill run down Nott’s spine. A bright, yellow eye stared back from the page, staring with an orange iris and a dark pupil.

Nott swallowed. Uk’otoa had not crossed her mind since the witches’ attack. Somehow, a part of her thought the entity’s influence couldn’t reach Fjord so far away from the ocean - or especially when reverted back to a child. But Uk’otoa doesn’t seem to let go that easily.

She hoped it won’t be a problem for a while.

Nott was broken from her thoughts when Beauregard yawned. It was that moment Nott realized the sky was turning an orange as the sun set on the horizon. She had been asleep a good majority of the day.

“Beau, I can take over now,” Nott said, sliding in the seat beside her. “I didn’t mean to be asleep for so long. Go take a break.”

“It was easy,” Beau said, even as she handed the reins over and stretched her legs. Her spine gave a groan as she stood up and rubbed her shoulders.

“It gets tiring after a while,” Nott said, easily settling back to the driving position, refreshed.

Nott drives the cart for a while longer, stopping once for a pee break and passing out snacks, before the sun finally hit the horizon and she pulled over to begin the new nightly routine.

The tent set up and a fire steadily going with the kids all tucked into bed, Nott entertained them once more with a story. This one was about an extraordinary tiefling named Mollymauk Tealeaf and his meeting with a group of adventurers called the Mighty Nein.

Thankfully, they were all asleep before Nott hit the end of the story.

Nott stayed up all night once more, keeping an eye out in the dark, and wondered, distantly, if Frumpkin had been poofed when Caleb reverted to a child. The cat would make keeping watch a lot easier.

Nott sighed, settling deeper in her bedroll, and poked the coals of the fire with a long stick. Tomorrow, Alfied.

Chapter Text

The morning had been much the same, but Nott kept her head up. She couldn’t fall asleep again when the roads were sure to get busier the closer they got to the village. As she tucked the kids into the cart, she pulled Fjord aside.

The drawings from yesterday had been placed precariously back in Jester’s journal, which had returned to her bag of holding. Now, Nott retrieved it and held it in her hand.

“How did you...come up with these drawings?” Nott asked, attempting to sound curious instead of worried.

Fjord shrugged again, his eyes falling to the ground. “I, uh. I don’t know. I think I dreamt them.”

“Can you tell me if you have any of those dreams again?” Nott asked. “Just, if they bother you. I would be a bit nervous if I dreamt of a big eye.” She tapped the paper for emphasis.

Fjord thought for a moment, then nodded. “Sure. It was...kinda freaky.”

Nott nodded and climbed into the cart, taking the reins and, once everyone was settled, taking off.

They stopped twice for pee breaks, both of which Nott switched out what could be excused as a diaper for Caduceus - Nott discovered early on that Jester and Caleb knew to tell her when they needed a break - so Nott used what little rags remained and tossed the soiled pieces off into the brush. They could get proper supplies in Alfield, proper clothes for the kids, and lots of toys. A week long trip was going to be rougher than a couple days, and the kids had already exhausted most of their activities.

Not only that, Nott planned to get the kids a bath. She wasn’t worried about coin; she had taken all their coin purses on the first day and planned to use it to her advantage - a part of her believed it was what they owed her for all this. But mostly, she felt they all deserved one (and a couple really needed one).

So when they finally pulled into Alfield, Nott was relieved. The town was small, but it had everything they needed. As they began to pass people on the path, Nott pulled her mask up and fixed her gloves on.

It was late afternoon by that time, so Nott decided baths first, shopping tomorrow. She pulled the cart up to On the Wind Stables, which had done a fair amount of repairs since Nott had last seen it. The gnoll attack had done damage to a good part of the town, but after the months spent away from here, Nott found that the people were thriving once again.

She slipped a gold to Durmas to hold on to the horses and cart for the next two days, then looked over at all the children. Perhaps tomorrow she could find a wagon to carry the three youngests; a way to make sure none of them wander off.

Nott picked up Caduceus and instructed the others to hold hands. Her free hand, she held onto Caleb. Beau held on to Caleb’s other hand, Yasha beside her. Fjord walked with Jester. Once Nott was satisfied with their buddy system, she lead them to the tavern that held old memories for them - for her, now.

As they walked through the streets, the town wasn’t barren of all life, but the growing darkness had people retreating into their homes. The sound of a heavy hammer broke the empty air, and as Nott passed what once was a smoldering mess of coals, she made the group pause. A well-constructed building now stood in that place, a dwarf on the roof, hammering down planks of wood. The sign on the front read, ‘ The Candleglow Inn ’.

“It’s open for business if you folks need a place to stay,” The dwarf called down from the roof.

“Uh, thank you!” Nott called back, and lead the group of children inside.

The familiar face of Thadeus sat behind the front desk, smiling brightly at Nott; then slowly fell as he scanned the faces of the children.

“Hello sir!” Nott said, hoping to get through this quickly and without questions. “How much for a night’s stay?”

Thadeus’ smile turned to uncertainty as he undoubtedly recognized the group, but not the same as before. Almost automatically, he said, “Five silver.”

Nott procured the amount and slid the coins between her fingers. “If we were to request a bath as well, how much would that put us?”

Thadeus shook his head, as if coming to the conclusion that he hasn’t met these people before. “Seven. Room four, I’ll have my men bring up a tub.”

Nott set the coins down on the counter with a clack , exchanged them for a room key, then herded the children up the stairs. Once the door was shut behind them, Nott could feel the exhaustion beginning to sink into her bones. She shook herself awake; there was still more to do.

As she turned around, Jester was already jumping on the bed. Caduceus wiggled in Nott’s arms until she set him down, where he started to wander over to the bed. Beau caught Nott’s arm.

“So, what’s the plan here?” She asked, crossing her arms on her chest.

“Baths tonight,” Nott said, running it through her head. “If you’d like some privacy, I’ll wash the youngests and take them down to grab a meal. We stay here for the night. Shopping tomorrow, and then we leave for Felderwin.”

Beau nodded but lingered, her face going stiff and blushed. “I would...prefer the, uh. Privacy.”

Nott was grateful that the mask hid her amused grin. “Sure, Beau.”

The Inn’s employees knocked on the door not long after that. A heavy wooden tub was carried into the room, and during the next fifteen minutes, the men would carry buckets of hot water into the tub. Nott got the children distracted with paints until the bath was full and steaming, a pile of towels left beside it.

After digging around in their belongings, Nott found soap, but the last of their rags had been used. She tore up another shirt - one of Caduceus’, which was surprisingly soft - and fashioned a cleaning cloth.

The bath was large. It was meant for adults to sit in, so when Nott undressed Caleb and Jester and set them in the water, it rose up to just below their shoulders. Caduceus was small enough that his pink fluff of hair would only rise to the surface, so Nott held onto him as she scrubbed behind his ears.

Jester gathered a handful of suds and blew them, sending bubbles flying in the air. Caleb reached up to pop them and they both giggled. Caduceus watched them and slapped a hand on the water, letting out a delighted squeal as the water splattered across the four of them.

Nott wiped the water from her forehead and booped Caduceus on the nose. “We can’t lose all our water here, little one.”

He responded by another splash. Nott shook her head and dumped a handful of water to clear the suds from his head. Once he was rinsed, she lifted him and wrapped a towel around him. She did her best to dry off his fur, which as a baby felt more like peach fuzz, but the best she could do was leave it damp. Letting him run around, she figured he’ll air dry.

The other two in the tub had taken to blowing bubbles at each other. Nott watched Jester squeal as Caleb blew suds in her direction followed by a rough splash. Nott winced as water splattered on the floorboards and sunk into the wood.

“Okay!” She said, putting a hand on each of them. “No more of that, okay? We can’t make a mess in here.”

They were surprisingly obedient after that, with Nott only catching Jester once trying to splash the suds off of Caleb’s head. Nott showed her how to cup her hands and together, they helped clear the suds from Caleb’s hair.

Nott pulled him out of the tub and wrapped him with a towel, drying most of him off before propping him on the bed as well. Caduceus had abandoned his towel and was watching Beau teach Fjord and Yasha a game. Something that had to do with reflexes, Nott guessed as she observed them. The three sat in a circle with a small rock in the middle, and when Beau counted down, they all darted for the rock. Beau came away victorious as the other two groaned.

“It’s a lot more fun with candy,” Beau said, placing the rock back down.

As they started another round, Nott went back to the tub. Jester was clinging to the edge, watching the other kids play, and grinned up at Nott when she approached.

“Your turn, little sapphire,” Nott said playfully, running her hands through Jester’s damp hair.

“My Mama calls me that!” She said, letting her head tilt back. “My Mama is really pretty, you know. Like, the prettiest . And she tells me I’m pretty too!”

“She is right about that,” Nott said, running a soapy cloth along the small peaks of bone on the top of Jester’s head.

Jester tilted her head back until she could see Nott. She looked thoughtful, for a moment, then grinned. “I think you’re pretty, too.”

Nott chuckled weakly. Jester, as an adult, would say the same thing, but every time it never failed to make a small part of Nott flinch and curl up in shame. She wanted to deny it, because she obviously wasn’t pretty, had never felt that way. She wanted to say that Jester was sheltered and knew nothing of the outside world. She wanted to say, as a child or as an adult, Jester was too naive to see the truth.

“Time to rinse off,” She said instead.

Nott let Jester watch the older kids as she got Caduceus dressed in what could be excused for a nightgown. Another wrapping to serve as a makeshift diaper, but even with the nightgown covering it, Caduceus looked like a kid that came off the street. Maybe that would work as a cover story, should Nott need one.

She dressed Caleb next and while he smelled better, the nightgown made him look even more pitiable than his tattered clothes as an adult. She really needed to find them proper dressings.

Once she got Jester dressed, she turned to the three kids, still enraptured in their game.

“Anyone can claim the tub next,” Nott announced. “Whoever doesn’t can come down with me and the little ones for a meal.”

They all raised their hands, but Beau was quicker on the draw. Nott pointed to her and she fist pumped the air before hurrying over to the side of the tub. The water was still sudsy, only a little tarnished with dirt mostly from the kid’s feet, but it was what they had.

“Join us when you’re done,” She instructed to Beau before leaving her to her privacy.

Nott corralled the kids through the downstairs dining area, finding a table to fit them all and placing Caduceus in her lap. A firbolg baby was big, but he was still an uncoordinated baby. He observed the inn with awe, eyes latching on to a small band gathered in the corner. Two halflings and a gnome with assorted instruments played a common, spritely tune to lift the spirits of the inn.

A dwarf woman took their order with a smile partially obscured by her impressive ginger beard, and left with a compliment on the many adorable kids Nott has. Nott only smiled, sharp teeth and tight-lipped, murmuring a thanks that the dwarf seemed to understand as parental exhaustion. She pat Nott’s shoulder empathetically before disappearing into the kitchen.

Mugs of milk were placed on their table and Nott passed them out, only remembering belatedly that she’s got a couple picky eaters. Jester, despite opting for milk as an adult, shoved the mug away in disgust. Trying to get Caduceus to drink had resulted in a splash of milk being slung across the table. After that, she had resorted to water and taking stealthy sips from her flask under the table.

Beau rejoined them soon after, and Yasha volunteered next. Beau’s hair had been released from her braids and she quietly asked Nott to redo them. Propping Caduceus on Fjord’s lap for the time being, she redid two braids split on Beau’s head and pulled it all out of her face.

Yasha came back downstairs after the plates arrived. Nott promised to protect Fjord’s plate as he went upstairs, the last to bathe, and she kept her promise despite an urge to steal the juicy strip of meat.

Once Fjord was back, looking cleaner and a great deal happier, Nott flagged down Thadeus to tell him they could take the tub back. Meanwhile, the party finished dinner; Nott had to cut up bits of vegetables and fruits for Caduceus, and who made a displeased sound every time meat was held up to his lips. It all became more for Nott, anyway, so she didn’t complain.

With Caduceus on her hip, Nott was made busy by hovering around the table and cutting up meat for the little ones. Caleb and Jester, unable to use a knife, needed the most help. By the time they were ready to head back to their room, Nott was looking forward to passing out.

As she lead them all from the table, a tug on her arm got her attention.

“The band has a hat for tips,” Beau said, pointing across the inn. “I think we should give them a coin!” Then, as if catching herself, added, “If you think we should, I mean.”

Nott chuckled. She slipped a silver piece from one of the coin purses and placed it in Beau’s hand. “Go ahead.”

Beau grinned and hurried over, waving to the band and setting the small coin in the upturned hat on the ground. The band members nodded to her in thanks and continued on their song.

“Why is she doing that?” Jester asked from Nott’s side.

“It’s a nice thing to do.” Nott shrugged. She usually doesn’t tip these musicians, but that was mostly because she never felt she had the coin to spare.

“I wanna do that!” Jester said, bouncing in place and tugging on Nott’s sleeve. “Can I please?”

It seemed to trigger a chorus of small children asking for a coin and Nott sighed. She dug through the coin purses and retrieved a copper piece for each child, and then escorted them over to the band. The band members, while not breaking rhythm, watched amused, as a line of children dropped coins in the hat. Nott dropped another silver as the line ended, nodded politely to the band, and finally escorted the kids upstairs.

The tub was removed from their room, and so were the towels. Nott graciously set Caduceus on one of the two beds and laid down beside him, dropping a hand over her eyes. She was more than due a long rest.

But there was still things to attend to. She clapped her hands, gaining the kids’ attention. “You can sleep in either bed, I don’t care which. If you wake up first, you have to be quiet for the rest of us.” She sat up to look each kid in the eye. “Do not leave this room unless I am with you. Understood?” With a bobble of heads, Nott settled back into the pillow and shut her eyes.

As exhausted as she was, she couldn’t doze off until every child was comfortable. Caduceus had curled up beside her, nuzzling her side, and Nott threw an arm around him. She watched with one cracked eye as Caleb tugged Beau to their bed, convincing her to take the half that Nott hadn’t claimed. As Beau got settled, Caleb crawled in between Beau and Nott, an arm loosely clasping Beau’s. Nott caught, just for a moment, a fond smile curl up Beau’s lips.

Jester was the next to join them. She squeezed in just beside Caleb, a knot in Nott’s other side, but she found she didn’t mind. In the darkness, Nott could see Yasha and Fjord linger, before Yasha took to the other bed. Nott almost felt disappointed, until she stole the pillows and blanket and placed them on the end of the bed the rest of them were resting.

Yasha motioned for Fjord to follow and the two of them settled at the foot of the bed, legs entangling with the rest of them, and even with Yasha’s feet pressing into Nott’s calves, it was the most comfortable she had felt since the last time they used the bubble. With everyone around her, together and safe, she slept peacefully for once in what felt like a long time.

Chapter Text

It was his crying that woke her up.

It was still dark. Nott still had two lumps on either side of her, fast asleep, but there was still one body missing from the crammed bed. Gently prying herself from in between the small forms of Jester and Caduceus, she stood up from the bed.

The small form of Fjord was huddled in the corner of the room, head in his hands and knees pulled up to his chest as he tried to muffle his sobs. Nott slowly approached and knelt in front of him, tapping him lightly on the knee.

“Fjord?” She whispered as his head shot up. His face was tear-streaked and flushed dark green. His breath came in little pants.

“S-Sorry,” He said, hiccupping.

“For what?” She sniffed the air and picked up on the dreadfully familiar scent of briney sea water. “Did you have a dream?”

In the darkness, Fjord nodded. Nott sighed and stood up. She searched their belongings until she came across a waterskin - she wasn’t sure whose it was - and sat back down in front of the kid. She held it out for him and he slowly unravelled from his curled position. She could see, once he picked his head up, that the front of his shirt was soaked with foul-smelling sea water. Her nose scrunched up as she handed Fjord the waterskin and he nearly emptied it before taking a breath.

He was no longer crying and his hiccups had subsided, so Nott leaned forward and used her sleeve to wipe away the drying tear tracks. He let her, even though he flinched when she first moved. She paused to cup his face, some distant memory nagging at her - wiping her son’s tears? what made him so upset? - before turning her attention to his shirt.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” She said, taking his hands and helping him stand. Nott lead Fjord to their belongings, and she dug through it until she found another of Fjord’s shirts. She slipped the soiled shirt over his head, tossing it into a random bag for one of them to find in the future, and helped Fjord tighten the clean tunic. It hung long on his frame but it would do for now.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Nott asked in a whisper. She glanced at the rest of the kids, and was relieved to find that they stayed fast asleep.

Fjord took a shaky breath in, out. Nott found his hand and squeezed it tight.

“It was one of those dreams you told me to tell you about,” Fjord said, wiping at his eye. “There was a big eye. A yellow eye. And it said some things, like--” He took on a deep, spooky voice, “--‘ Watching ’, ‘ Wander ’, and…” His voice trailed off, turning back into his small, shaky voice, “And ‘ Punish ’. And then, it, uh. I think it…” His hand absently rose to his throat. “I think it choked me? Or I was drowning. And then I woke up and…” He looked to the bags where his sea-water soaked shirt was hidden. He turned back to Nott with something uncertain. “Am I in trouble?”

“Of course not.” Nott squeezed his hand tighter. An odd feeling came over her as she said, “It’s just a nightmare. They can’t hurt you. When you wake up, you’ll be safe in your bed.” She hoped she wasn’t lying to him. “Whenever they scare you, just call me. Even when I’m sleeping. Okay?”

Sniffling, Fjord nodded. Leading him by the hand, Nott took him back to bed, waiting beside him as he curled under the covers. She smoothed the blankets under his chin and, almost without thinking, bent down to kiss the top of his head.

She caught herself as she was reeling back. Fjord watched her in the dark with wide eyes. Nott stroked his head, as if wiping the memory away, and then awkwardly shuffled back to her spot on the bed - trying not to think of the protective curl in her chest at the small half-orc boy getting hurt.

Caduceus and Jester had curled together in her absence. She gently pried them apart, allowing Caduceus to nuzzle in the warmth under her chin. Nott slid under the covers, and as she got comfortable, Jester gripped her side in her sleep. Nott admired the sleeping children in the dark, feeling safe and satisfied with them so close to her. Stroking Caduceus’ back, she slipped back into slumber.

-

It was his crying that woke her up.

His face was smudged with dirt and his cheekbones were gaunt. They couldn’t stay trapped here any longer.

She had to protect her boy.

Before they escaped from the goblins’ prison, before Veth gave Luke to Yeza and made them run, she knelt before her boy - not much older than a toddler and much too young to be here, to watch the children he grew up with be carried past them and become the goblins’ dinner - and she wiped the dirt from under his eyes and the tears cutting tracks through the muck and the snot dribbling down his chin.

“It’s just a nightmare,” She had told him.

She kissed his forehead and passed him to Yeza. He gripped his father’s tunic with tiny white-knuckled fists. Yeza pulled her close and kissed her once more, held her face delicately, like she was precious to him.

“They can’t hurt you,” She had told him.

Veth watched her boys break off towards the river. She heard the creatures behind her; scampering feet and wretched calls in a language she didn’t understand. It sounded like a cat being strangled. Like a bird caught in a trap.

“When you wake up,” She had told him, squeezing his small hands tightly. “You’ll be safe in your bed.”

The largest goblin cornered her and she panicked. She had a jar of acid that Yeza had passed to her, just before they broke apart. It was her last resort. She tossed the contents into the goblin’s ugly, putrid face, and he screeched an inhuman sound, one that would stick with her for the rest of her life, and the next.

They killed her for that. Drowned her in a river and made sure she remembered every agonizing moment, every tear in her lungs as she desperately breathed in water, every muted scream as she hoped help would come. The feeling of water sinking in everywhere, into her ears, her eyes, her nose. As if surrounding her completely, as if convincing her that she had no escape.

In the last moments before darkness, she thought of Luke.

She hoped she hadn’t been lying to him.

-

Nott woke with a start.

Her throat was dry and clicked when she swallowed, but the phantom pain in her lungs was gone, if it ever existed in the first place. She put a hand there anyway, as if to rub away any lingering aches. She closed her eyes again and breathed steadily, making certain that it came easy.

Her dreams have started to become more vivid. Nightmares were not abnormal, after everything she’s been through, but recently they felt more real. The details of the dreams fade not long after she wakes up, but she remembered how they felt, how afraid or heartbroken or pained she was. Almost like a distant memory.

She didn’t like it.

There was a warmth beside her and she turned to it. Caduceus was laying beside her, watching her with wide pink eyes. She’s not sure when he woke up, but other than the two of them, the bed is empty.

Nott sat up with a start. The bed really was empty, but the room was not. She let out a tiny breath of relief. Yasha and Fjord kept young Jester and Caleb occupied with the game Beau taught them the night before. In this case, the older two were consistent winners and looking proud of it.

Fjord looked better than the night before. He was still in the clothes he slept in, clean of salt water, and no sign remained that could’ve showed he had trouble sleeping. He appeared a happy, well-rested kid. Nott let out a small sigh of relief.

Picking up Caduceus, Nott held him on one hip as she walked over to the small group. She watched a few rounds of Jester and Caleb getting more and more frustrated, until Fjord purposely lost and allowed Jester to grab the rock in between them, victorious.

It was that moment that Nott realized someone was missing.

“Where is Beauregard?” She asked, scanning the empty room as panic climbed up her throat.

“She went downstairs,” Fjord explained, but before Nott could ask why, the door clicked and swung open.

Beau walked in, a coin purse on her belt and a tray in her hand where plates of food tilted dangerously as she walked. Nott hastily set Caduceus on the floor and ran to help, taking the tray before it tipped over.

“We didn’t want to disturb you,” Beau said, smiling sheepishly. “So I just thought I’d get breakfast. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay,” Nott reassured. “Just don’t be afraid to wake me up if you need help.” The smell of sausage and bacon made Nott’s stomach growl. She gave Beau a squeeze around her shoulders, something done easier with Beau’s new height. “Thank you, Beau.”

Beau beamed. She helped Nott situate the tray on the room’s desk and began passing plates out. The kids abandoned their game in favor of food. Nott set them up on the floor with a plate in hand and a waterskin beside them. She helped Caduceus with what he was willing to eat, while also eating what Jester refused to touch.

Nott packed up their belongings when everyone finished. She left the plates in a pile on the desk and got everyone prepared to leave. She fixed their hair the best she could, by combing through locks and retying the braids and pigtails where she could. Once decent, she corralled the children into their working buddy system and made their way down to the front desk.

Thadeus still eyed them oddly as Nott returned their roomkey. She had her mask securely in place and ushered the children out the door before he could ask anymore questions.

As effective as their buddy system was, Nott still worried about the little ones letting go and wandering off. And besides, her arm was already getting tired from carrying a baby firbolg.

Luke was much smaller as a baby. So small, Veth was worried if it was normal. His whole head could fit in the palm of her hand, and he was oh so fragile, she was scared that she would break him.

Caduceus wasn’t nearly as tiny, even at the same age Luke was. Firbolgs seemed cushioned with fur, but even at that, they were much bigger than halflings. While Veth almost refused to have Luke taken from her arms, Nott was looking for any reason to set the baby firbolg down.

So when they passed a street vendor selling wooden wagons, Nott scrambled for her coin purse.

Twenty minutes and the loss of 3 gold later, Nott had the three little ones settled in the wagon. She propped Caduceus in between Jester and Caleb, and a blanket tucked around the three of them. Beauregard stood at the back of the wagon, and Yasha and Fjord at either side. This way, Nott could ensure that all of them were in eyesight of each other, and none of the little ones could wander off.

At the front of the wagon, she led their party of children through the town of Alfield, looking out for any particular shops. The familiar Broad Barn caught her eye first, and even if it doesn’t have what she wanted for the kids, they did need to restock their supplies before heading to Felderwin.

The Broad Barn, as a barn, was large enough for Nott to drag the wagon through the wide doors. The gentlemen with a halo of white hair was behind the counter, and he frowned at them. Nott half-waved and hurried the kids to an aisle of supplies.

Using the space in the wagon as a shopping cart, she collected pieces of cloth, some cleaning supplies, tools that they could use on the road, and on a whim, a healer’s kit. She hoped to avoid combat with six children in tow, but she couldn’t predict who could be on the roads.

After adjusting the tailored gloves, Nott approached the gentlemen. He watched them warily, but didn’t ask too many questions as Nott procured the amount owed. He swept the coins from the counter and nodded once, dismissing their little party.

Back through the streets of Alfield, Nott surveyed the other shops. Before, they didn’t stay long in Alfield to go leisurely shopping, so most of the shops were new to Nott. She lead their group into what appeared to be a tailors, leaving the wagon outside with a solitary blanket.

The tailor was run by an elderly gnome lady with stringy white hair pulled into a bun, resembling something of a yarn ball. She grinned behind thick glasses as they entered and approached them with a shuffle. She was just at Nott’s height and Nott had a hard time trying to keep her face hidden.

By the way the lady blinked slowly at her and focused somewhere on Nott’s forehead, she figured the glasses didn’t much help her eyesight anyway.

“Oh! It’s good to see newcomers,” She greeted, taking Nott by the hand. “Madame Monteville, pleased to meet you. Please, what can I do for you folks?”

“Ah, I would just like to…..” Nott trailed off, glancing between the group of kids. “To get my foster kids some new clothes, please.”

Madame Monteville fixed her glasses and her grin brightened. “Oh my, of course. Here, let’s see…” She pulled a long measuring tape from her apron and went to Beau first, measuring her torso, then arms, then legs, and moving onto Yasha.

Nott stepped aside to let her work. Despite her clear lack of eyesight, Madame Monteville was well skilled in her job. Her hands were steady as she made the measurements. She didn’t have to write down the numbers, as she only hummed to herself when she was finished sizing up each child. Nott held up Caduceus to help the Madame, and she squeezed his cheeks before stepping back.

“I think we’ve got something for each of you,” Madame Monteville said, slipping the measuring tape back in her apron. “Give me one moment, dears.” She shuffled to the shelves and the various mannequins throughout the room, humming to herself as she gripped a piece of clothing, contemplated for a moment, then either tossed it over one arm or put it back where it belonged.

She walked up to Fjord first. She gripped his chin in wrinkly, veiny fingers and tilted his head back and forth. Fjord watched with wide eyes, glancing to Nott with a pleading look. Nott was about to step in, until Madame Monteville let go and held a tunic up to his chest.

“That should fit nicely,” She said, almost muttering to herself. It was a simple tunic that tied in the front, tailored to fit a child in Fjord’s size. The bottom was embroidered with a simple ocean wave design. It fit much better than his current tunic, which hung loosely on his frame.

She then held up a pair of linen breeches that complimented the tunic and were meant for his size. She passed both pieces of clothing to Fjord and moved on to the next child.

Yasha was handed a similar outfit, but her tunic lacked sleeves. She studied the fabric for a long moment, running her hands over it as if it was something new. It was certainly different material than her usual garb, but she appeared happy with it, to Nott’s relief.

When she moved onto Beau, Nott caught her dread at seeing Madame Monteville hold a dress up to her. Her expression twisted into disgust before schooling into tolerance.

“Uh, excuse me, Madame?” Nott asked, stepping beside her. “I think Beau would prefer something like the vestiges she’s wearing now.”

Beau gave her a relieved grin, and Madame Monteville pulled away the dress to examine Beau’s Cobalt Soul vestiges. She hummed, contemplating to herself, then nodded. She tossed the dress back over her shoulder and went to a wooden mannequin with similar vestiges, fitted to a child’s size. She slipped the vestiges from the frame - instead of cobalt blue, they were a deep maroon red with gold threaded trimming. She held it up to Beau, whose grin could brighten the room. Nott smiled despite herself, warm fondness heavy in her chest.

Caleb was given a flowy tunic and hose. It was an upgrade from the poorly stitched nightgown he had been stuck with for the past few days, and Nott felt better seeing him in higher quality clothing.

She felt the same with the last two. Jester was given a green dress with a hood that she hugged with unrestrained glee. Caduceus was given a better gown and socks that Nott held onto and grinned at.

“For all of those--” Madame Monteville tapped the air as she did the math in her head. “--it would cost you about…80 gold.”

“Done.” Nott took a handful from her coin purse and placed them in the Madame’s hand. “Thank you so much. Is there a room here where they can get dressed?”

Madame Monteville counted the gold pieces and nodded. She gestured them to follow and lead the party to a small fitting room. A stool sat in the middle with three long mirrors against the wall.

“Take as much time as you need.” And with that, the Madame closed the door and left them to their newly acquired outfits.

Nott allowed Beau, Yasha, and Fjord take turns behind the decorated privacy screen. Beau sashayed out in her new vestiges, properly fitted and no longer sliding down her hips. She bounced in place, as if testing the limits, and was pleased to find there was no restraints in her movements.

When Yasha appeared, she was stretching in her tunic. She liked the lack of sleeves, and Nott would say that for a child her age, she had an impressive amount of muscle. It certainly made sense for the future barbarian.

Fjord came out just as pleased, tying up the laces of his tunic. His sleeves no longer hung off his fingertips and he didn’t need to hike up the bottom to keep from tracking in the mud. The pants he borrowed from Nott were rightfully returned and the new ones fit his frame better.

As the three older kids were dressing, Nott fixed up the little ones. Caduceus was first, and was indifferent to his new outfit, but to Nott, he looked like an average baby. She had little experience with what clothing firbolgs preferred, but at least this way, he didn’t stick out - as much.

Jester pranced in her new dress and threw up the hood, proclaiming to her Traveler that she looked like him, now.

“The Traveler wants you to look like him?” Nott asked, pulling off Caleb’s old nightgown.

“Well, if I look like him, he might like me more!” Jester said, her hood falling in her eyes. “He hasn’t talked to me in a while. Maybe he’ll visit if I wear this all the time!”

Nott laughed softly, warily. “Maybe so.”

Caleb appeared just as indifferent to his outfit, but just the same, Nott held him close and admired him. The outfit was the average outfit of a child of the Empire. Out of a ratty nightgown, he looked closer to Luke than ever. Nott kissed the top of his head and finally let him go, watching as Jester tugged him away to show off her dress.

Nott tucked their old clothes away in her bags, then corralled the children back through the tailors. With a final goodbye to Madame Monteville, Nott lead them out the door. She tucked the little ones in the wagon, and lead them all back through the streets of Alfield.

The next stop was a bit harder to find. Nott tried to scan the stores they passed and find one that possibly sold toys. Distantly, she heard conversation between the kids, mostly drowned out by the passersby of the village folk. They passed markets set up in the square, of wooden booths selling fruits or bread or other homemade goods. Nott would stop to refill their rations, but otherwise, didn’t let the stands distract her. That is, until she felt a hand on her arm.

She turned to Fjord, who looked nervous. Looking behind her, she was relieved to find the three little ones in the wagon - but her stomach plummeted when she realized the other two were missing.

“Beau followed Yasha,” Fjord said, speaking fast at seeing Nott’s growing panic. “Yasha saw something, I think?”

Nott let out a frustrated groan. She gripped Fjord’s hand and pressed the handle of the wagon into his palm. “Hold this and don’t move .”

Fjord nodded jerkily as Nott took off through the market. She darted between families and market stands looking for the familiar pair of braids or long black-and-white hair. The market wasn’t incredibly crowded, to Nott’s relief. She had frantically shoved a poor man carrying a crate of cabbages out of the way before she spotted maroon vestiges.

She marched up to a market selling what appeared to be oddly shiny flowers. Yasha and Beau stood in front of it, and Nott watched them hand over a handful of silver to the halfling woman behind the stand. They must have snagged one of the coin purses when Nott wasn’t looking.

“ Girls ,” Nott said, sternly from behind them. The two spun around, eyes wide.

Beau put her hands up. “I was making sure she didn’t get lost!”

Yasha fixed Beau with a stare. In her hands, Nott saw a bunch of flowers; now, upon closer inspection, appear to be made of a silken material.

“Why did you two wander off like that?” Nott asked, returning her attention to the girls.

In her quiet voice, almost lost beneath the noise of the market, Yasha said, “I wanted to surprise the kids.”

“And I was going to bring her back to the wagon right after!” Beau added, almost tripping over her words.

Nott sighed, softening at their sincerity. Glancing back over her shoulder, she could spot Fjord hanging back by the corner she left him, kneeling on the ground and conversing with the kids.

Taking a step closer to the girls, she spoke lowly, “Just let me know next time, okay? I thought you’d disappeared on me.”

Yasha thought for a moment and nodded. Beau did the same a half second later, watching Nott warily.

“Are we in trouble?” Beau asked, voice uncharacteristically small.

Again, that knot of dread in Nott’s gut. She shook her head and added, “It’s a nice thing you did. C’mon, I’m sure the little ones will love them.”

The two grinned and followed Nott as she walked back to the wagon. Fjord passed the handle back to Nott as the girls gifted the silken flowers to the younger kids. Jester squealed when holding her silken flower up to the light, and with Beau’s help, she tucked it behind one of her growing horns. Caleb gripped his in a fist and pet the petals, reminding Nott of how he pet a cat. Perhaps the feeling is soothing for him.

Caduceus tried to bite a petal and, when he found he couldn’t tear a piece off, just settled on shaking it and watching the petals flop around.

Just before Nott declared that they should move on, Yasha approached Fjord and held another flower out. He took it after a second of hesitation, thumbing along the edge of the fabric. He grinned at Yasha, his small tusks poking up from his bottom lip, smooth without scratches from years of filing them down. He kept his flower gripped in one hand.

Beau and Yasha each bought one of their own. Beau fixed hers to hang from her sash and proudly rocked her hips with each step to watch it sway. Yasha tied a flower to one her braids that draped over her shoulders.

As Nott began their trip further into town, she felt a small tug on her sleeve. Turning, she found Yasha holding the last of the silken flowers out to her.

“You got one for me?” She asked, and Yasha nodded. Nott took the flower, delicately, and thumbed the sewn stem. She looked to the one Yasha had in her braid, that shined in the sun everytime she moved.

“Thank you,” Nott said, and added, “Yours looks very pretty on you.”

Yasha smiled, shyly, and Nott wasn’t expecting a response until Yasha’s small voice said, “I can braid your hair, if you want.”

“Oh, uh.” Nott fumbled, trying not to self-consciously pull the hood further up over her head. “Maybe. But thank you.”

Yasha nodded once and resumed her place beside the wagon. Nott took a deep breath, steadying herself, and they continued their journey further into town.

Chapter Text

Finding a store that sold children’s toys had been harder than Nott expected. There wasn’t any significant stores that sold just toys. So they bobbed between shops, most focused on weaponry or general products, until Nott lead the children into one called The Ironclad Wares . Leaving the wagon outside, Nott corralled the children in their routine buddy system and entered the shop.

They were immediately greeted by a bright grin haloed in poofy, ginger hair. Nott took a startled step back and looked up.

A human woman, who presumably ran the shop, stood above the group. She had on a long hunter’s coat and half of her hair was braided on one side, while the other jetted out in untamed, ginger curls. Freckles dotted tan skin and Nott noticed a gap in between her teeth.

“Hi there!” She greeted, in an energetic way that reminded Nott of Jester. “Welcome to Ironclad Wares ! I’m Cali, what can I do for you?”

Nott blinked, surprised at the sudden greeting, and stumbled out, “Uh, yes, do you have children’s toys?”

Cali examined the line of children with a broader smile. “Of course! Right this way.” She turned on her heel and took long steps towards a back corner of the shop.

Nott rushed to keep up, tugging along her line of children behind her. Cali lead them past shelves of weaponry, ranging from a beautifully carved bow to engraved axes and daggers. The shop itself didn’t appear to be initially aimed at soldiers, but rather for tasks like hunting, lumbering, etc. Though Nott supposed that many of these tools will be used defensively, especially after the gnoll attacks.

The corner of the shop had two shelves lined with household products. There was a line of books, dolls, paints, and other games for children. Nott let out a breath of relief, then waved a hand in a silent gesture for the kids to go check it out. They broke from her side in an instant and began examining the shelves.

“You’ve got quite a bit on your hands, dontcha mom?” Cali asked from beside her, leaning on the front counter.

Nott didn’t bother to correct her. Instead, she let out another tired sigh. “I do. But they’re good kids.” Caduceus in her arms, she took her fingers and curled them into his fluff of hair.

Cali watched as Beau picked up Caleb to help him reach a high shelf of books. She snorted. “I believe it.”

Caleb trotted up to Nott hefting a heavy bound book in his arms. He had a hopeful grin on his face as he looked up at her, holding the book out.

“What did you get?” Nott asked, taking the heavy book. It was certainly thick, and held closed by a strap of leather. Each corner was nailed down with finely shined gold trim, and embroidered in golden thread was the title, ‘The Daring Trials and Tribulations of Ser Taryon Darrington ’.

The title sounded vaguely familiar and Nott flipped through the first few pages to be sure it wasn’t a smut novel Jester had picked up before. Cali leaned over to read the title and snorted.

“Yeah, I read that one. It’s a bunch of crazy stories from some famous adventurer from Tal’Dorei. Kinda sure it’s all fantasy, but it’s a fun read,” Cali said, then stage-whispered, “It’s mostly kid-friendly, promise.”

Nott nodded appreciatively and handed the book back to Caleb. “Hold onto it until the others are ready, okay?”

Caleb nodded, hefting the book in his arms. It was about the length of his shoulders and his chin hid behind it, just barely big enough to fit in his hands. Though his smile that poked over the edge of the book made Nott feel warm and satisfied.

Jester trotted up next. She held a thick bound book of canvas paper tucked under one arm, and in the other, a new paintbrush pinched between her fingers and a can of paint. By the label on the front, Nott saw it was a deep red color.

“I want these!” Jester said, bouncing in place.

Cali leaned over and inspected the can of paint. “Hon, do you want a palette instead? You can have a lot more colors.”

Jester’s eyes widened, but instead of making a demand, she looked to Nott with a pleading look. Nott softly laughed and nodded.

Jester grinned. “Yes, yes!”

Cali laughed and leaned over the counter to poke Jester’s forehead before she headed over to the shelf with the art supplies. She tipped onto her toes to reach the top shelf and pulled down a paint palette with a selection of colors. Jester’s eyes had stars in them as Cali traded her the palette for the paint can.

“You’re gonna be the greatest artist in the Empire,” Cali said, patting her head.

Something in Jester’s expression changed for a second, as if she could tell something wasn’t right with Cali’s phrasing. Nott wondered, with a start, if she even realized they weren’t in the Menagerie Coast anymore.

But she seemed enough distracted by the new paints that she didn’t question it, to Nott’s relief.

At the corner of the shelves, Nott spotted Yasha with a doll in hand. It appeared handmade, with shiny button eyes and long yarn hair, and wore a pair of blue overalls. Yasha ran her fingers through the frayed yarn with a small smile on her face.

Nott approached her, shifting Caduceus to her hip, and plucked a spare doll’s dress and captain’s uniform from the shelf behind Yasha. She held them out to the kid, who held the doll to her chest as if afraid of being caught with it.

“She might like some spare clothes,” Nott suggested, holding up the two outfits. Yasha examined them for a long moment before smiling. Slowly, she took the two outfits and held them up to the doll, then turned to Nott with a bright, thankful grin.

While distracted, Nott didn’t notice Caduceus reaching for the shelf beside them until something clocked Nott in the side of the head.

Blinking the stars out of her eyes, Nott reeled back to investigate and found the rattling noise she heard was not inside her own head. Caduceus had found a wooden miniature pig on the shelf of dolls, but this mini pig had been carved hollow to be filled with either rocks or beads. It made a dull rattle as Caduceus shook it, to his apparent glee.

Nott, despite the fond sight of watching a grinning baby firbolg shake a wooden pig, couldn’t help flinching at the harsh noise. She put a hand over the toy and Caduceus’ big pink eyes turned to her, wide.

“You can have this back when we get on the cart, okay?” Nott suggested, not certain if he understood, but she tucked the toy in her pouch after showing it to Cali.

The noise, at least, would be bearable in open air rather than inside a small building.

A little ways down the shelf of miniatures, Fjord was kneeling and watching a small wooden top spin. It was painted different shades of blue that made it appear as if there was ocean waves moving along the side of it.

He watched it with a look of awe, one bluntly clawed finger hovering over the top as if trying to touch the waves. Other, similar tops laid sideways on the shelf, decorated with small scenes of animals prancing or, as Nott snorted when she saw it, gnolls running amongst flames.

“Would you like that one?” Nott asked, making Fjord jump in place.

“Oh—I, uh,” Fjord stuttered, glancing to the top as its spin began to slow. “You don’t have to get me anything.”

“Everyone is getting something,” Nott insisted, even as she began to regret it as Caduceus not-so-stealthily tried to slip a hand in her pouch.

Fjord nodded, slowly, and reached a hand down to pick up the top just before it settled flat onto the shelf. He held it open in his palm, smiling slightly as he showed it to her.

“It looks lovely.” She glanced to the other ones laying dormant on the shelf. “Why don’t you get a couple more?”

Fjord blinked in surprise and looked over the other tops on the shelf, warily side-eyeing Nott.

“You could teach the others how to spin it,” Nott suggested, knowing full well he needed another excuse.

Giving a nod, Fjord finally picked up the two others on the shelf and held them in his palms. Satisfied with this, Nott began scanning the room for the odd one out.

Beau stalled outside of the group, watching the kids more than the shelves. Her arms crossed across her chest, she looked like the bodyguard of five children and a goblin.

Nott approached her from the side, nudging her shoulder. “Anything catch your eye?”

Beau shrugged. “I don’t really need anything.”

“You might not need anything,” Nott began. “But what do you want? ”

Beau looked over the shelves of toys half-heartedly, nothing particular drawing her attention. Then her eyes shifted to the wall of weaponry, and Nott understood.

“Cali?” Nott made a gesture that called the shopkeep over. “Do you have a long range weapon that’s….safe?”

Cali scoffed a laugh. “For her? I might have something.” She walked over to the wall lined with an array of weapons, most intended for close range melee. At the far end, it transitioned to bows and crossbows. Cali took a small, light crossbow off a hook and a bundle of bolts before making her way back to them.

“Try this hon,” She said, handing the crossbow to Beau.

Beau gaped in awe as she was handed the crossbow, fitting her hand on the handle and experimentally pressing the trigger. The string wasn’t pulled back and there were no bolts loaded, so all it did was make a mechanical click .

“I can teach you how to shoot,” Nott suggested, taking the bundle of bolts from Cali and tucking it in her pouch.

Beau grinned at her. “You will?!” Nott had never seen Beau as happy as right then. Grinning and unfiltered, with no shame or insecurity holding her back. “Dad would always take my daggers away - they’re not ‘ladylike’, or whatever. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he finds out I can shoot!” To prove her point, she aimed the empty crossbow at the dolls on the top shelf and made a fwt noise as she pretended to shoot.

“I’ll find a day to teach you,” Nott promised, smiling fondly at the pure joy in Beau’s expression.

“Is that everything?” Cali asked, eyeing Beau joyfully pretend to shoot the other miniatures on the shelves.

“I think so.” Nott nodded, watching the rest of the kids with their new toys.

The entire amount went to a little more than Nott expected, but it was worth it - both for the long trip ahead of them, and for their happiness.

“Good luck with the trip, mom!” Cali waved them off, as Nott lead the kids in a line out the door. The kids let out a friendly chorus of goodbyes before they were back out into the market.

Nott tucked the littles ones in the wagon, and between them, their new toys. She gave Caduceus his rattle back and he gleefully shook it, the noise now bearable when surrounded by the hustle of the market. Jester petted along the bristles of her new brush while Caleb flipped the pages of his new book - though, Nott was unsure how much he could read.

Fjord and Yasha each held their new possessions, and Nott caught them admiring the items as they walked. Beau, however happy she was to have a crossbow, Nott insisted on holding onto it until they were out of the city.

Eventually, Nott lead them to On the Wind Stables. Durmas kept the cart and horses well taken care of, and Nott slipped him another gold for the good work. She packed up their bags and got the children situated in the cart. She left the wagon to the mercy of the stables, much to Durmas’ displeasure, but they were well on their way out of Alfield, and on to Felderwin.

Almost, Nott told herself. Almost time.

Being back in the seat of the cart was not something Nott was excited for. Yet, seeing her friends as children - most defenseless, and unable to deal with the current world in their state - had her swallowing down the discomfort.

As much as she had begun to love these children, she needed her friends back.

They didn’t get far - it was already midday by the time they left. The children busied themselves with their new toys. Fjord showed Caleb and Jester how to spin his tops. Caleb picked up on it fairly quickly, and busied himself with spinning the top with the gnolls and fire. Jester kept tipping hers over - the one with the prancing farm animals - but she was giddy just watching Fjord ‘make the animals move’.

Yasha sat with Caduceus as she dressed her doll, and tried to keep him entertained by puppeting her doll to talk to his wooden pig. He could only respond by bumping her doll with the rattle, but he was happy while doing it.

Nott gave the crossbow back to Beau - empty - and she aimed at the passing greenery and animal life and pretended to shoot it down. They would have to find a day for Nott to teach her to properly shoot.

As the day drew to a close, Nott pulled the cart to the side of the path and began the nightly rituals from what felt like a lifetime ago. She pulled the tent from the bag of holding and set it up beside a makeshift fire. She passed out rations before setting up their bedrolls, placing herself at the mouth of the tent and closest to the fire. The kids settled down, their toys held against their chests. Caduceus, curled up closest to Nott, had a thumb in his mouth with the wooden pig sideways beside him. Nott fondly ran a hand over the peach fuzz along the sides of his head - then was hit with the abrupt realization that his haircut as an adult naturally grew that way. Huh.

That train of thought was cut off by Caleb crawling up beside her, pushing his new book along with him. Nott picked it up and set it in her lap as Caleb curled up against her side.

“Want me to read to you, Caleb?” Nott asked, opening the front cover.

“Yes, please,” Caleb said, and in a flat tone added, “And it’s Bren.”

Nott nearly jolted, but it seemed Caleb didn’t think much of the slip-up. Instead of replying, she flipped to the first page and cleared her throat:

“In my travels through Ank'Harel, I have never seen so many magical items in one place! But then I saw them, walking up to me, and I knew: I had met some very special people.”

By the time she finished the chapter - which was a highly exaggerated, fantastical exposition of some adventuring group that she wasn’t apt to believe in the slightest - Caleb was a dead weight against her. She tucked an arm around him and let his head rest in her lap as she kept watch.

Looking around the tent, it seemed everyone else had fallen asleep, too. But as she listened, she noticed a small noise - like that of something spinning.

With her dark vision, it was easy to make out the form of Fjord spinning a top along the ground, the one with the waves.

Keeping her voice in a whisper, she said, “Fjord. Get to sleep.”

He jumped in his bedroll and a hand closed on the top, but he didn’t close his eyes. He only tucked the top in his palm and ran a thumb over the engravings, as if he hadn’t heard her.

Squashing down a moment of irritation, she kept her voice low. “Fjord?”

He looked up at her again and sighed in defeat. In a whisper, he said, “I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

He shifted in his bedroll as if uncomfortable, and it was a long moment before he finally admitted in a small voice, “I don’t want another scary dream.”

Nott softened. She didn’t want him to keep having (wet) dreams of Uk’otoa if she could help it, but that stuff went way over her head. She barely understood magic; eldritch gods were another realm altogether.

“I can’t say it won’t happen again,” Nott said, quiet and regretful. “But if it does, just wake me up. I promise you’re safe.”

Fjord nodded, and it took a little longer than with the others, but eventually Nott heard his breathing steady out and the camp was quiet.

She ran her fingers steadily through Caleb’s hair and looked at the fire. Back down to Caleb.

There were things she hadn’t told him. A lot, about her past. She had told him about Yeza, but she wasn’t completely truthful about it. He had no idea about her son, or her husband, or Veth, or that she had an ulterior motive to their friendship. That part of her knew Caleb was smart enough to reverse whatever was done to her, and that protecting him for so long had been partly because she wanted him to owe something to her.

The other part saw her son in his eyes and she couldn’t help trying to be the mother that she had failed to be.

So for a moment, if she pretended it was Luke in her lap, it would be kept between her and the night sky.

Chapter Text

Before Luke, before the apothecary, it was just Yeza and Veth.

On one of their dates, after the dare that made them kiss, after she kissed him for real, was on a hill that overlooked the river. In the spring, flowers would bloom. Most of them were pink. Some were yellow, red, or purple. Veth wasn’t sure what type of flowers they were, but Yeza knew. He was a smart man and she loved him for it.

Veth picked the surrounding flowers while Yeza sat behind her, hands in her hair as he braided her long, brown locks. She held up a yellow blossom.

“Ranunculus flabellaris,” Came the answer behind her. “Or, a buttercup.”

Veth added it to her long string of flowers. Yellow, purple, pink, red.

Her second braid hit her back as she felt a kiss on the top of her head. “How’s that coming along?”

Veth held up her handiwork. A crown of flowers, the colors of the sunset. She turned and placed the wreath on Yeza’s head. It was just slightly big and fell on his forehead, propped up by his glasses. He chuckled, and Veth laughed, and she felt Yeza’s hands come up on either side of her face and then she was being kissed. It was barely a kiss; they were smiling and laughing and neither of them could stop long enough to turn it proper.  

In the end, they broke it off, Yeza’s hands on her hips and her arms wrapped around his shoulders and a sway in their movement as the sun set on the horizon. A perfect, peaceful moment.

And Yeza broke it.

“What do you think about marriage?”

Veth turned to him, gave him a sharp look. Yeza took her hands from his shoulders and squeezed them, watching her intensely.

“Veth, will you marry me?”

Yeza was a smart, smart man but he was surely not this stupid. “What--What do you mean? We haven’t--Our families…” Because they hadn’t told anyone yet. Not officially, not their families. Veth had, at best, a rocky relationship with her parents and brothers, and Yeza’s mothers lived as far as Zadash. It was custom to get each family’s permission before there was any discussion of marriage - it was custom that marriage wasn’t their choice alone.

It wasn’t like Veth hadn’t thought of it. Wasn’t like she hadn’t imagined it, what it would be like to have a husband, a house, a child.

But she had Yeza, and she had learned to be happy with what she could get.

“We’ll just tell them,” Yeza said, and that was a statement for a village deeply rooted in tradition, “And it doesn’t matter what they think. I will still marry you, and only you, Veth.” Then he kissed her knuckles, and looked at her with those bright, blue eyes, and it became too hard to say no.

She nodded and pulled his stupid-smart face to hers and kissed him properly, full and heavy and loved. His hands found her back and held her close against him.

And for a moment, just a moment, she could see it. A tiny family in the tiny apothecary that Yeza always wanted, a tiny child in her arms - surrounded by many more.

It felt right.

-

Nott woke up to something falling on her face.

Beau had taken up the reins when morning came, and after Nott made sure the kids were fed and well distracted, she set up her bedroll at the back of the cart and caught up on her missed sleep.

It made her wish for the bed back at the inn, with all her kids surrounding her. But hearing them nearby, talking amongst themselves and safe, was good enough.

She gasped awake when something hit her nose painfully. Sitting up, she found many pairs of eyes on her, holding back giggles.

Beau, at the front of the cart, looked over her shoulder. “ Guys, I told you to leave her alone!”

The kids burst into laughter and scampered away. Looking down, Nott spotted Fjord’s tops spilled across the floor and her forehead felt oddly indented. Among the toys, she found each of her long claws were painted bright colors of the rainbow and Yasha’s doll was tucked under one of her arms. On her lap, Caduceus’ pig rattled.

“What did you kids get up to?” Nott picked up the rattle and shook it. Caduceus, who had been held back at first by Yasha, broke free and wobbled in her direction. He grabbed the rattle from her and sat back on her bedroll, shaking it to his heart’s content.

Jester wandered up next, a splatter of pink on her cheek showing the culprit to Nott’s new manicure. She grinned at him, sharp canines and all, as she sat in front of her.

“Do you like your nails?” She asked, rocking place.

Nott made a show of holding out her hands and looking over the artwork. The paint was messy and smudged from Nott moving in her sleep, and it had begun to flake as it dried, but she grinned at Jester anyway.

“I love them,” She said. “Thank you, Jes.”

Jester giggled into her hands before scooching closer and throwing her arms around Nott’s shoulders. Nott let out a startled breath, and huffing a laugh, she gently pat Jester on the back.

She took over the reins for what remained of the day - another couple hours and the sun will go down. The kids had the freedom of the cart all day, and it showed; there were paint splatters in the cracks and little drawings all over the wood. Nott spotted the symbol of the Traveler, the Captain Tusktooth design, waves that resembled the ones on Fjord’s top, and a figure with blonde hair and blue eyes that Nott could only guess was a characterization of Taryon Darrington.

Usually, a child wouldn’t be allowed to paint on the walls, but Nott didn’t really mind. The cart itself had been purely a means of travel until now; the mark these kids were leaving made it feel more personal, more connected to her.

Plus she could show them to the group when they’re all back to normal. And tease them about it. Mercilessly.

She let Beau pass out rations to the kids for dinner. It would still be an hour or so before she’ll pull the cart off the road and set up camp, so she bit off an apple as they continued down the road.

It was not long after that she felt a gentle tapping on her shoulder. Turning to look, she found Yasha waiting, head cocked, with a silk flower in her hand. A question in her eyes.

Nott sighed and pulled her hood down. “Go ahead, dear.”

A grin broke out on Yasha’s face and Nott turned back to the road. She felt deft fingers part her hair down the middle and work through the tight knots.

It had been a long time since Nott had brushed her hair. The goblin clan that took her hostage didn’t care about hygiene as much as Halflings did, and she hated the feeling of her new hair anyway. It was thin and stick-like and not at all like her brown locks that she used to hate.

But Yasha didn’t seem to mind. She seemed at least familiar with braiding hair and Nott hadn’t had someone do that for her in a very long time.

As her hair was folded into two braids, Yasha was silent. She wasn’t the most talkative member of the group to begin with, but even as a child, Nott felt it was strange that she kept so much to herself. She got along well with the other kids, even put herself out there to help in those rare moments, but Nott felt something was off.

She had that feeling a lot in the past week.

“Yasha,” She asked. “Do you miss your parents?”

There was a moment where Nott thought she wouldn’t get an answer. But then came the quiet, almost detached reply.

“I don’t know.” A pause, another fold of the braid. “Not really, I guess. They were just part of the adults that looked after us.”

Right. Nott tried to remember what she knew about Yasha’s tribe, but came up with a blank. “Did you...have any friends?”

“Most of the other kids are scared of me.”

Nott furrowed an eyebrow. Again, there was detachment in her tone. Like this fact did not matter. “Scared of you? Why?”

Yasha hummed. “Probably because I killed their siblings.”

The apple in Nott’s hand tumbled underneath the cart. She barely kept the reins from slipping from her grip and jerked upright when she caught them. “Ah-- What? ”

Now there was confusion, some concern for Nott’s reaction. “Some of the kids used to pick on me. So I fought them and won.” Yasha’s head poked over Nott’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Nott nodded with a strained noise in her throat. Yasha hummed again and went back to braiding her hair.

Nott’s voice was small. “...Uh, try not to fight these kids, okay?”

Yasha laughed, a small giggle, and the out-of-place context for it made chills run down Nott’s spine. “I won’t. They’re nice.”

A long pause that was normal for Yasha but what Nott could call awkward settled between them. Somewhere behind them in the cart, Beau was in a debate about something with Fjord. Nott couldn’t quite make her mind pay attention to it.

Clearing her throat, Nott started a new topic as Yasha let one braid fall over her shoulder, completed. “Did you, uh. Name your doll yet?”

There was another pause, long enough that Nott wondered if she was heard, when Yasha finally spoke.

“Zuala,” Came the soft-spoken reply. “She’s my friend.”

The name didn’t ring a bell to Nott. She tucked it away to ask Yasha about it when she was back to normal. “That’s a nice name.”

“It is.” Yasha tied off the end of the second braid. “She’s a nice friend. She’s not scared of me.”

Nott absently poked at a sharp tooth. “That’s a good friend to have.”

Yasha didn’t stop at the two braids. Nott felt her hair be pulled back into some sort of knot at the base of her skull. Yasha slipped something into the knot and sat next to Nott on the bench.

“All done,” She said, smiling shyly.

Nott reached a hand behind her and felt some sort of complicated twist of the braids, and in the middle, the silken flower that Yasha had gotten for her. As she felt the ridges with her fingers, she felt a smile crawl on her face. In her mind’s eye, it was beautiful.

“Thank you, Yasha,” Nott said, and Yasha’s grin broadened.

“Zuala lets me do her hair sometimes,” Yasha said, using a hand to half-cover the blush on her cheeks. “She has really pretty hair.”

“Is she really pretty?” Nott asked, a coy smirk on her lips as she clued in.

Yasha’s blush darkened. In a quiet voice, she said, “Yeah…”

Nott looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a smirk and watched as Yasha grew more and more flustered. Eventually, she put both hands over her burning face and groaned out her embarrassment.

Nott chuckled as Yasha finally stood up and joined the other kids. Now that Nott was paying attention, she heard the topic over whatever friendly debate the kids were having.

“--But the orphanage was in Port Damali,” Fjord was saying, as Jester chimed in.

“My Mama and I live on the Coast!” She said, grinning up from Fjord’s side.

“So, the goblins must have taken you to the Empire,” Beau insisted, and gestured around her. “You see an ocean anywhere, dipshit?”

“ Beau ,” Nott said, turning to look over her shoulder. “Don’t call him a dipshit.”

“But he’s being stupid,” Beau said, affronted. “I’m from Kamordah, and my dad did business in Alfield. Which is the town we were just in. Both are in the Empire .” Beau gestured to Caleb, who watched from his seat on the floor of the cart. “Bren’s from the Empire, too.”

“I thought we were in Xhorhas,” Yasha added, confused.

“Wait,” Beau asked, momentarily forgetting the argument to give Yasha an incredulous look. “Are you a Crick?” She took a half-step back and Nott saw Yasha’s frown deepen.

“ Beauregard ,” Nott snapped, and Beau flinched, attention snapping to her. Nott felt a moment of guilt but pressed on, “We don’t use Crick, it’s Krynn . Apologize to Fjord and Yasha.”

Beau opened her mouth as if to argue, but slowly closed it. Yasha had her arms crossed now and an unreadable expression on her face, while Fjord had hunched in, as if to make himself as small as possible. Jester reached up and held his hand.

Beau sighed, long and loud. “Fine. I’m sorry Fjord for calling you a dipshit. And stupid. I’m sorry Yasha for calling you a Crick.” She turned to Nott with a frown and hard eyes - and Nott realized at that moment that she had lost part of the responsible teenager that had been so helpful with the kids up till now. A piece of the Beau that Nott was well familiar with, the one with a problem with authority and a smart mouth, had just showed its head.

She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or worried.

“But for real,” Beau continued, snapping Nott out of her thoughts. “Are we in the Empire or what?”

Fjord’s frown flipped into a slow grin. “So you aren’t completely sure afterall?”

Beau turned to glare at him. “I just want to prove you wrong, Tusktooth.” She watched Fjord’s grin falter and Beau quickly added, “It’s not an insult! It’s that Captain dude she told us about!”

Nott saw Fjord tentatively smile before she turned back to the road. She shouted out ahead of her, “Yes, we are in the Empire.”

There was a very loud “ I told you so! ” that made Nott flinch. She thought she might have to intervene again, but the kids had questions about the Empire and directed them at Beau. Over the sound of the cart and horses, Nott heard bits of pieces of Beau’s family’s winery, which was something Nott wasn’t all that interested in, but the kids appeared enthralled by it.

It distracted them long enough for Nott to pull the cart off the side of the road and set up camp for the night. She went through the same routine: tent, bedrolls, fire. Kids, bedtime story.

She read another chapter from Caleb’s book, and what she thought at first was a story about some guy pretending to be an adventurer, turned into something like a drama. A passionate love affair and daddy issues. This guy was a walking stereotype.

Yet, she couldn’t help but be hooked by the story. Even after the kids fell asleep and she stopped reading aloud, she continued on silently. She wondered if any of it was real, and what parts.

Surely not all of it.

She read on till dawn, surprising herself. She somewhat understood now what Caleb’s fascination with reading was. She was never a big reader; the most she’s done was Yeza’s textbooks on alchemy, but she learned more from doing rather than reading. She never felt she had the desire or time for leisure reading.

As a current guardian of six, she had a lot of time somehow.

She kicked down the coals of the fire and woke the kids as usual, fed them breakfast, then tucked them in the cart. Sometimes, the little ones took a nap on the first few hours on the road. Today, as Beau took the reins, Caduceus cuddled under her chin to continue sleeping. He was a warm weight that helped her drift off; the comforting feeling of a little one beside her, safe.

She slept peacefully.

Chapter Text

That day was a very uneventful drive.

Nott could tell, upon waking with empty arms and taking over the reins, that the kids were getting antsy. Jester grew bored of painting and spent most of the time going from person to person and asking pestering questions. Or looking out into the passing fields with a frown.

The others were getting just as restless. More often, Nott had to de-escalate a fight between Beau and one of the younger ones. Each time she’d get that same, irritated glare that was so much like the Beau before all this.

As she got the kids tucked into their bedrolls that night, it was a fight to get them to settle down. Jester didn’t want to pay attention to that night’s chapter and instead kept whispering to Caleb or poking Caduceus. Nott moved to Jester to sleep right beside her as she read, and eventually, they all settled into sleep, much to Nott’s relief.

The kids truly liked each other, but they needed a chance to expend their energy.

The next morning, Nott let them sleep in. Instead of stomping the coals of the fire, she relit it with nearby dry brush and added branches she snapped off from the trees. Digging through their supplies, she found Caduceus’ tea kettle and tea leaves.

The tea kettle had a tripod that was meant to have Caduceus’ staff propped underneath to heat the water. Nott had no idea how it worked and she didn’t want to mess with it. Instead, she fixed the tripod over the fire and filled the kettle with water. She sniffed each bag of tea leaves Caduceus had brought with him until she found something she recognized; hibiscus, though this must be a different strain of the type Nott was used to. It had a slightly different sweetness than the dried hibiscus at the apothecary. She had watched Yeza use it for potions before or settle with a cup of it at the end of a busy work day.

She let the tea bag seep once the kettle was steaming. It made the air sweet and soon enough, the kids began to rise as the kettle gave a low whistle.

Nott pulled the kettle off and set it on a rock just as Beau emerged from the tent, her two braids undone after the few days on the road and a pinched expression on her face.

“What’s goin’ on?” She asked, voice thick with sleep.

“We’re taking a day off,” Nott explained, and held up one of Caduceus’ three cups. “Tea?”

Beau rubbed at her eyes and shrugged. She took the offered cup and sat cross-legged by the fire, blowing at the steam.

As the others were roused, Nott prepared the other two cups and their breakfast rations. She paired Fjord and Jester together to share one of the cups and then Caleb and Yasha. When Beau declared she didn’t care for it, Nott took her cup and sipped at it.

It had been a long time since she had tea. She wondered if this particular type came from the gravesite of a family like the rest of Caduceus’ tea, but she didn’t care enough to find out.

Caduceus, even as a baby, seemed to have a taste for tea. He sat beside Nott and reached up for the cup she held, even as she held it out of his reach. She blew on it and tested  a drop on her wrist until it was cool to the touch, then held the lip of the cup up to Caduceus’ lips. She wasn’t sure, exactly, if baby firbolgs could have tea at such a young age, but Caduceus appeared to enjoy it. They went back and forth until the cup was finished and Nott dumped the remaining tea into the brush, then tossed the tea bag. Immediately after she hesitated, wondering if Caduceus would be mad that she used his tea - or if he did that weird decomposing thing on his old tea bags. The thought made her find the bag, now with pine needles stuck to it, and toss it back in the kettle before packing the supplies up.

It was about then that the exhaustion set in. Nott gathered the kids together and laid out the rules.

“Beau is in charge,” Nott began, and Beau pumped her fist in the air. “I’m going to catch up on sleep for a while. You guys are free to run around and do whatever you want. But don’t go in the road, wake me if anyone tries to talk to you, and don’t go past the treeline.” They were in a fairly large clearing, but it was eventually cut off by a semi-circle of trees beside the road.

The kids nodded in unison and Nott clapped her hands together. “Go have fun!”

They all stood up and scattered, but before Beau could go anywhere, Nott caught her arm.

“Keep an eye on Cad, please?” Nott asked.

“Sure thing.” Beau nodded and Nott released her. As Beau went to follow the kids, she scooped Caduceus up from where he had been playing with the leftover tea cups. She suddenly stopped just as she passed the fire and looked over her shoulder. “Will you teach me to shoot today?!”

Nott sighed and nodded. “Later.”

Beau grinned and bolted off, leaving Nott alone by the dying fire. Nott watched them a moment longer, growing smaller as they explored the clearing, before finally crawling in the tent. She laid out her bedroll and tucked herself inside, unaware of the relief that washed over her at laying on the soft ground instead of a moving cart. The tent blocked out the sun and, for the first time since Alfield, she slept contentedly.

-

Luke was a smart boy for his age.

When he was three, Yeza began taking him into the basement of the apothecary, where all the potions are brewed. He would set Luke up on a stool and put him in charge of separating the caps from the stems of the red amanita mushrooms or stirring the boiling pot of morning dew and cat’s tongue. Veth would be there to help as Yeza buzzed around the lab, handling the more explosive materials with an experienced hand. Yeza taught him to taste the sourgrass for ripeness before putting it in the pot.

Luke’s face twisted as he bit down on a stalk. “It’s gross.”

“Like a lemon?” Veth prompted, tossing chopped bits of sourgrass into the pot. The iron cauldron and enchanted bed of coals that never required to be cleaned or refilled was definitely the most expensive addition to their apothecary, but a much needed part. Veth picked another stalk from the potted patch they brought in from their greenhouse on the roof and bit down, tasting a surge of sour cut-grass flavor. Then she lined it up on the cutting board and began chopping it with her long kitchen knife.

Luke gagged. “No, it’s grosser.”

Yeza took the stalk and bit down, wincing. “Yeah, that one’s no good. Nice job, kiddo.” He stuck the stalk back in the dirt of the potted plant and picked a different one.

Veth kissed the top of Luke’s head. “You’ll be just like your father one day.”

“He’ll be just like the both of us,” Yeza argued playfully, throwing a wink in Veth’s direction. She rolled her eyes.

Veth bent down next to Luke and stage-whispered, “You know, Daddy taught me everything I know about alchemy. He’s a very smart man.” She booped Luke’s nose. “Just like you.”

“Your mother is a very smart woman,” Yeza chimed in, looping an arm around her waist. He watched her intently as he said, “She taught me how to be a father, a husband, and a business owner.”

Veth couldn’t keep a blush off her face. She ducked her head and hid her grin, but Yeza, well acquainted with when she showed defeat, began laughing and pressing kisses along the side of her jaw.

Luke let out a loud, “Eeewww!” and covered his eyes, a mischievous smirk on his face. He peered through his fingers just as Yeza scooped him from the stool to tickle his sides. Luke squealed with laughter and struggled in Yeza’s grip, kicking at the air as he was attacked mercilessly.

Veth leaned against the alchemist table and watched, the warmth fading from her face as she watched her boys tumble. She couldn’t help the achy feel in her chest at Yeza’s words, the part of her that wanted to deny it fighting with the part of her that knew Yeza was being completely honest. She didn’t believe she was smart, or pretty, or brave, and yet Yeza told her she was these things everyday. She couldn’t wrap her head around it.

But, he was right about one thing. Luke would turn out to be like the both of them; a smart boy with a knack for mixing potions and learning the properties of plant types, but also a brave boy who knew how to hide and how to run.

Veth would race Luke whenever she could. Running from bullies became the only reason she didn’t come home with a new bruise or a bloody nose. She would take him for walks on the outer fields of Felderwin, originally to pick some components Yeza needed, but Veth would challenge Luke to a race from the river to the end of the fields. She always won, but Luke had gotten closer each and every time.

She taught him to hide. Hide and seek was a game she insisted on, especially when Yeza was working with a client downstairs. She would hide in the tightest, most invisible spots until a half hour has passed and Luke was calling for her. Then she would teach him how to tuck parts of his body in to make himself smaller, to fit into tighter spots. How to slip from someone’s eye and appear to disappear. How to be invisible in plain sight.

These are essentials, she told herself, as she watched Luke run off to play with the village kids. He was the fastest out of all of them.

He might need to disappear, she thought. To keep himself safe.

Even though Yeza insisted they would keep him safe, that the village had Crownsguards to protect them. “If anything were to happen,” he told her. “We’d take him to the basement and ride it out.”

When Yeza wasn’t around, Veth would ask Luke: “If something were to hurt you and Mom and Dad were not around, what do you do?”

And, practiced and memorized, Luke would say, “I would run and hide until you found me.”

“And if something happened to Mom and Dad?”

“I would run to Edith’s and stay there.”

Veth would kiss his forehead and say, “Good boy, smart boy.”

She hoped it stuck with him.

-

She was woken up by screaming.

It made her heart leap into her throat. Nott quickly tore from the bedroll and crawled out from the tent; frustratingly rubbing at her eyes as the sun momentarily blinded her. Blinking, she tried to find the children.

And let out a slow, relieved breath.

It appeared like they were playing a new game of sorts; tag, Nott recognized, the more she watched. Fjord appeared to be ‘it’ and was chasing the others, mercifully pretending he couldn’t catch Jester or Caleb or Caduceus while Yasha and Beau barely evaded him. Jester was the one screaming her laughter, as she ran from Fjord when he got too close, pretending like he was reaching for her before abruptly changing course for Yasha.

As Nott slowly approached them, she watched Beau make a risky move; she scooped Caleb up onto her back, who had until then been hanging around Jester and avoiding getting caught in the fray. He let out a squeal as Beau picked him up, and even with the added weight, she managed to be just a bit faster than Fjord.

While Fjord was distracted with Beau and Caleb teaming up, Jester ran up to Yasha and said something - from this distance, Nott couldn’t hear - but Yasha smiled and nodded, and then Jester was being hoisted onto Yasha’s shoulders. Jester screeched even louder, drawing Fjord’s attention, who laughed before darting after them.

Unfortunately, even as strong as Yasha is at this age, the added weight slowed her down. Fjord’s hand shoved her shoulder before he darted away, now free from being ‘it’. Jester stayed on Yasha’s shoulders and pointed at Beau, shouted something nearly indecipherable but Nott understood as something encouraging, and Yasha bolted.

Nott sat down in the grass beside Caduceus, who was sitting on a spare bedroll with his rattle and the others’ toys surrounding him. He grinned up at Nott who pat his head before his attention was taken back to petting the hair on Yasha’s doll.

The game went on until Beau collapsed on the grass beside Nott, followed by Caleb giggling and tumbling onto her chest. He had been declared ‘it’ and Beau resigned to her fate, lying prone on the ground while Caleb poked her cheek. Both of them were flushed from running in the fields all day.

The others joined them not long after that. Jester nearly collapsed into Nott’s lap and grinned up at her, breathing heavily and energy sapped. Fjord and Yasha fell into the grass nearby, breathless with laughter. Nott let them catch their breath and spent the time running her fingers through Jester’s blue hair.

Eventually, Beau turned on her side to face her, Caleb straddling her hips and playing with a loose gold thread on her sleeve.

“Are you gonna teach me to shoot?” She asked with barely contained excitement.

Caleb’s head shot up to look at Nott. “Can we watch?”

“Yeah! Can we?!” Jester asked from Nott’s lap, turning over to look at her.

Nott laughed. “Sure. But you have to stay out of the way. Shooting a crossbow is dangerous.” It made her think of the gun she kept hidden away, out of sight and out of any reach of these children. Last time she fired it, she missed wildly. She intended to keep it safe and tucked away.

It took a little bit to set up a training course for Beau. Sorting through their supplies, she found a couple old bottles that once held potions of healing. She tucked them and found Yasha’s Magician’s Judge, and used it on the nearby trees - or, the low hanging branches she could reach with a sword twice the size of her - until she had logs to prop the bottles on. She set them on the far end of the field in front of the line of trees. She tied off dirt inside makeshift sacks and hung them off of some branches to dangle. It was subpar, but it would do the job.

She dug her heel in the soft ground and drew a deep line far back from the training range, then lined the children up behind it.

“You do not pass this line,” She ordered, pointing a finger up and down the drawn line. “Only Beau and I can. So you stay safe back here.” She scooped Caduceus up from his spot on the grass and handed him to Yasha. “Make sure he doesn’t wander up to the training range, okay?”

Yasha nodded, running her fingers over Caduceus’ soft peach fuzz hair. Satisfied, Nott turned and headed back up to the range, where Beau waited. She had the crossbow Nott bought for her - still empty. Nott had the bundle of bolts on her hip.

Beau was giddy. Their resting day had allowed her to burn off the pent-up energy from the last couple days. The Beau that started picking fights with the kids and arguing with Nott had turned back into the Beau with her childhood innocence.

“How do I start?” She asked, trying to pull back the string.

“Well.” Nott slipped a bolt from the bundle on her hip and lifted up her own crossbow. “You slip the bolt here--” She used the bolt to pull the string back until it latched into place. “And then you aim down the notch.” She held it up and, even though she doesn’t aim as precisely anymore since she’s gotten used to the crossbow, she exaggerates the position to help Beau understand. She settled her sights onto one of the hanging sacks of dirt and shot. It barely made a sound as it sunk deep into the sack. The bag jerked backwards and slowed into a swing.

“Cool,” Beau said beside her.

“Your turn.” Nott handed her a bolt and watched Beau struggle to clip it in place. Nott leaned over and helped Beau pull the string back.

“Now just hold it up and look down the sights.” Nott held the crossbow up and placed one of Beau’s hands on the trigger and the other on the base of the handle. She let Beau look down the notch and took a step back.

Beau closed one her eyes and focused. Her hands shook slightly as she tried to aim. After a few seconds, she pulled the trigger, and the crossbow gave a light kickback as the bolt sailed. It cruised over the bottles, too low to hit the swinging sacks, and sunk somewhere into the ground behind it.

“That’s okay!” Nott said at Beau’s frown. “We’ll try again.”

The next bolt went between two of the bottles and sunk into a tree. It took two more bolts until one skimmed a bottle and sent it spinning, before it settled back into place. Beau’s excitement had soured into frustration. For that reason, Nott gripped the top of the crossbow before Beau could slide in another bolt.

“Slow down,” Nott said, as Beau turned to her with that familiar, hard glare. “It’s--It’ll take some practice to get it right.”

Beau pouted. “It’s taking too long.”

Nott breathed a laugh. “When I first got mine, I was left to teach myself, you know. I didn’t have a training course so I had to learn as I went. I got hurt a lot, but I learned pretty quickly. It started to come easy when there was a monster coming at me.” She nudged Beau who let out a chuckle.

“So.” She propped the crossbow back up to Beau’s line of sight. “Imagine one of those bottles is a monster coming right at you.”

Beau’s eyebrows furrowed. “Just a monster?”

“Anything you’d want to shoot.”

Beau let out a slow breath. Her expression hardened, but different to the angry glare she often shot at Nott. There was something concentrated in this look, and Nott wondered who she was imagining.

The bottle let out a crash as it was shattered by the bolt.

There was a small cheer from the other kids behind them, and Beau turned to Nott with a grin. She smiled back, with a proud sensation in her chest that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

They worked for another hour or two. As time went on, Beau finished off the rest of the bottles and focused her attention on the swinging bags. Each time she would run out of bolts, her and Nott would run up to the range and collect them. By the time the sun hit the horizon, Beau had been hitting steady shots. The bags of dirt had began to deflate from the countless holes that were now piercing the material.

The kids behind them had lost interest within the first hour. They moved to the other end of the field to play the game Caleb taught them, but now with much more space than the bed of a cart. He faced the trunk of a tree while counting down in Zemnian as the others snuck up behind him. During the times that Nott and Beau were collecting bolts, Nott would watch them freeze in place every time Caleb turned around. Fjord was pretty good at the game, besides the few times he helps Jester win. Yasha and Caduceus won once, hand-in-hand, when Fjord was caught moving and was sent to the far back.

Nott called them back to the main camp as night cascaded over them. She relit the fire and passed out rations. It occurred to her then that maybe hunting would’ve been a good way to teach Beau to shoot, but then again, she didn’t want to leave the kids alone at the camp.

She tucked the kids into bed and continued to read from last night’s chapter of Ser Darrington’s adventures. She does admit, out of the entirety of this ‘Vox Machina’ group, she was a big fan of the elven twins.

She continued reading when the kids fell asleep, by the light of the firelight and the moon. As more of Ser Darrington’s story was revealed, she found herself more wrapped up in it.

Which might be why she didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until a twig snapped.

Nott froze in place. Slowly closed the book and reached for her crossbow. Now that she was paying attention, there was the distinct sounds of crunching steps on top of dried grass.

She nudged Beau with her toe until she gave a groan at the rude awakening. Nott held a finger to her lips, and by the light of the dying fire, Beau seemed able to see her.

In a silent mime, Nott told her, ‘Get your crossbow ready.’

Beau nodded once and picked up her weapon. Nott knelt in the shadows and carefully crept to the back of the tent, held close by a loose flap. Just before she left, she turned back to Beau.

“Shoot anyone you see,” She whispered, and with wide, frightened eyes, Beau nodded.

With a brief glance in the darkness, Nott slipped from the tent and darted to the cart. Near silently, she slid underneath and readied her crossbow.

As she waited, she spotted a group of figures exiting the woods on one side of the tent. From this distance, she couldn’t make out distinct features, except that they were humanoid. She notched a bolt and waited.

The figure leading the pack approached the tent first. They inspected the bed of coals in their makeshift fireplace before peering into the tent. Distantly, Nott heard them say, “There’s fuckin’ kids in here--” Before they cut off into a pained scream.

Well, it’s begun. Lining up her shot, she aimed for a second figure lingering behind the first and fired. It landed with a dull thud as it sunk into the figure’s shoulder.

The group grew as more figures emerged from the woods. A pit of dread began to seed in Nott’s gut. They might have had the element of surprise, but a goblin and a child can’t take on a group this big. She had to get the kids together and make a getaway.

Her worry spiked as another figure from the right tore the tent from the ground. A high cry pierced the air as it startled Caduceus, followed by the wails of the other two little ones.

The fight might have ended there - Nott saw one of the bandits turn to the others, throwing his hands up in a clear display of confusion - but then Nott felt a hand tug around her ankle and pull her from under the cart.

Nott yelped and struggled as she was held in the air. The bandit holding her had a glare and a handkerchief across the bottom half of his face. He laughed as he saw her. Any hope she had that these guys might be the bandits they’ve run into twice now were dashed.

“Guys!” He shouted to someone in the darkness. “I got a goblin over here!”

Before he could take her to whatever these bandits planned to do with them, Nott gripped his wrist and bit down on his hand. He let out an pained shout, instinctively losing his grip and allowing Nott to break free. She dodged the next grab for her and skid around the cart, ignoring her instincts to run to the trees and hide. Her mind was a running cycle of protect the kids, protect the kids, protect the kids--

She didn’t see the next figure kick her until the foot already connected to her side. She was sent tumbling across the grass, her crossbow flung somewhere as she lost her grip. She wheezed, the breath knocked out of her. There was an angry shout, and she looked up.

The tent must have been tossed into the bed of coals. It blasted the flames upwards into the night sky, casting long shadows on the grass. One of the shadows was Fjord, facing down a bandit with a longsword swinging down on him. Before Nott could yell out, Fjord was lifting his own sword; the familiar falchion, dripping with seawater as Fjord fought back, his upper lip curled up into a snarl. For a moment, it was as if he was back to the Fjord Nott knew well.

Behind Fjord, there was the circle of bedrolls. Jester and Caleb crowded around a crying Caduceus. The bandits didn’t appear to be actively attacking the younger ones, to Nott’s relief. The closest one reached down to grab at Jester’s arm, but then something strange happened; the bandit was close enough to reach, but he tripped. Or tumbled. Or missed. Nott wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw a pale transparent green figure appear, just briefly, between the kids and the bandit; she blinked, and it was gone. The bandit fell to the ground as he lost his balance, and Jester and Caleb tugged Caduceus away.

Before the bandit could regain his footing, Yasha appeared before him, a snarl on her face and a vein pulsing in her neck. She reeled a foot back and kicked his kneecap, and even from the distance Nott was, she flinched at the sickening crack that resounded in the field. Before the man could scream, she landed an uppercut on the underside of the man’s jaw, knocking him prone. She cracked her knuckles before setting her sights on the next approaching bandit.

And closest to the kids, shielding them from the approaching figures, Beau stood, crossbow in hand as she glared at anyone nearby. One bandit held up their hands, as if to surrender, but Beau shouted an angry, “ No one touches my friends, dickhole!” Before firing a bolt into his chest armor.

For a moment, Nott felt a surge of pride. Her kids were strong enough to hold their own. And she helped them become that, however much she could in the past week.

Before she could regain her footing and join them, she felt another kick to her side, turning her on her back. She grunted, about to reach a claw out, when a heavy boot pressed down onto her chest.

“Kidnapped some poor kids, huh?” The bandit said, pressing down harder until Nott was struggling for air. “Filthy goblins can’t keep their hands to themselves.”

As Nott sucked in a breath to retort, she felt something cold and sharp sink into her abdomen. A prickling sensation shot up through her body to the tips of her fingers; a dreadfully familiar sensation. She knew what followed; a pressing lightheadedness that lead into the deep, sinking unconsciousness and the feeling of absolutely nothing.

Shakily looking down, she saw the reflection of firelight in the gleaming sword sticking out from her stomach. Lifting her head suddenly became too much effort, and she sunk back into the dirt and grass. Straining her eyes, she looked towards the battlefield.

Upside down and losing blood, she wasn’t sure which way was up. But she did see this: Beau watching her with wide, terrified eyes, blocking the little ones’ view but frozen in place. Then a furious scream broke from her, sounding out Nott’s name as she held the crossbow up.

Nott’s vision went dark.

Chapter Text

Run and hide, run and hide, run and hide--

The halfling girl ducked through the market and past the farmers in town tugging along crops and fresh milk. She narrowly avoided colliding into a shopkeep hefting a carton of eggs, skidding to a stop before bolting in another direction, just as a hand missed the braids flying behind her.

Usually, she could duck into a shopkeep - the lovely couple Edith and Markas would hide her in the back of their tailors and shoo away the halfling boys - but the boys had figured out where she usually hid and, slowly but surely, pushed her towards the end of town.

Towards the fields.

So, the halfling girl did what she did best. She ran.

The fields stretched to a mile out of town and were taller than all the residents of Felderwin. Without hesitation, the halfling girl split between the tall stalks and pushed forward.

The dirt of the field was a lot less smooth than the roads in the village. She found her ankle twisting painfully twice, three times, but she pushed on as the sounds of the boys drew closer. Her booties were not meant to travel such harsh terrain, and the boys, as sons of farmers, are familiar with the fields.

A hand reached from the stalks and gripped a braid. She was yanked to the ground, falling on tough crops and broken sticks jutting painfully into her unprotected legs. Her dress had a growing stain on it as a mud puddle soaked through.

There was an echoing laugh in the stalks. She sat up and looked around. It seemed as if shadows were prancing past the stalks around her, taunting her. The sky had gotten dark. How long had she been running?

Another hand split through the stalks and another braid was tugged. She yelled out as she was dragged a few feet through the mud before the hand disappeared just as quickly. She heaved a sob, stumbling to her feet, her knees and elbows beginning to scrape and bleed. She had lost her shoes somewhere along the way, and mud squished between her toes as she pressed on, shoving past thick stalks and wincing as they whipped past her cheeks.

The haunting laughter followed her, and grew louder, and louder. They shrieked into the night, becoming twisted and broken, turned into wails. Slowly, the shrieking turned into words; incomprehensible, at first. Muddled broken words in a voice that sounded like an angry cat.

Then, slowly, the ear-splitting syllables began to make sense. The mangled noises stitched together into a language, and she understood it as this:

“ This way, this way!”

“ You idiot! How could you let her slip out of your sight?!”

“Shut up and just find her!”

“If I find her, I’m killing her where she stands.”

“VENGEANCE! VENGEANCE!”

The cries were cobbled together and seemed to surround her. She knew that if she wasn’t fast enough, they would catch up to her. Luckily, the ground beneath her came easier to travel; her feet had become calloused and flexible, small and green, able to traverse the uneven fields much easier. Her figure was smaller, hunched, quick. She could slip between the stalks without as much resistance. But the shadows around her, closing in on her, were much more experienced with this type of body. This species.

There were bolts flying through the crops. She ducked, dodged, until she couldn’t breathe. She heaved a gasp as a bolt pierced her side. She tripped on a broken stalk, skidding through the mud and the crops until her chin dug into the soft dirt and she snorted muddy shit-smelling water up her nose. She hacked up a lung full, her fingers clenching in the dirt.

She started to think something was wrong when she couldn’t stop. Water poured from her mouth, and she gagged, and coughed, and hacked, but it wouldn’t stop coming. Her throat grew raw. The dirt beneath her became thin and watery, her stomach clenched in pain, and the shadows were getting closer but it felt like every muscle in her body has seized.

The goblin woman, whose partner she killed, who brought her to the witch in the woods, who turned her into this , came through the crops and looked down on her with a snarled lip. Tears running down her face.

“ Make her suffer .”

The goblin woman gripped the back of her head and pushed her face into the growing puddle beneath her. She gasped, gulping in water, and the pressure on her head didn’t cease, and kept pushing her, and pushing her, and pushing her, until she was falling, into the puddle, into the mud, into spinning darkness. She felt a wave of calm over her, felt the energy leave her, even as water continuously entered her lungs. The pain became distant.

Then someone grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up. Nott gasped in a breath and it woke her like ice water to the face. She coughed, but nothing came up. The ache in her lungs soothed. She opened her eyes.

And looked up at Mollymauk.

“You’re the only one right now who can protect our friends,” He said, his voice distant, and Nott couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything. “It’s not your time, dear.”

There was so much she wanted to say to him. So much she had missed out on telling him. Advice she needed. But before she could get a word out, Mollymauk pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she was somewhere else, someone else.

She stood in the Brenatto Apothecary. The counter stood in front of her, a mess of supplies and bottles. She looked down at herself, her clean dress and familiar booties. She was Veth.

She looked back up and startled. From one side of the counter, came the young face of a boy, with bright blue eyes and shaggy hair. She smiled and reached a hand for him - and caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

Peeking from the other side of the counter was another young boy. Blue eyes. Shaggy hair. Identical.

She looked between the two, a knot of panic behind her ribs. Two kids. She had two boys and she needed to watch over them.

As if hearing her thoughts, both boys ducked back behind the counter. Veth sprinted over and heaved herself onto the surface, peered over.

The boys were gone.

She looked up, a name on her lips, just as she heard rapid footsteps downstairs. The basement.

Veth found the strong double doors keeping their brewery safe. There was a large lock on the handles she didn’t recognize. She reached a hand out to inspect it, but just as her fingers brushed the cold metal, it broke open with a deafening slam! . Veth flinched. The doors creaked open.

She pushed past them and rushed down the steps. She tried to call out to the boys, but her mind drew a blank. Gods above, what were their damn names?!

There was a blinking light down in the basement, and she had a passing thought, wondering who left a candle down there, when she froze. Two bobbing lights, magical in nature, shined in the corners of the room. The two boys stood on either side of a chair, sitting solitary in the basement, but that wasn’t what made Veth’s breath catch.

Their brewery was a mess. Broken glass from bottles and vials littered the ground, tables were tossed, and scraps of paper were left everywhere. Yeza’s textbooks were torn and tossed and trashed. There was the smell of burning wood, but Veth couldn’t place where it came from.

“Bren--” No, that wasn’t right. “Luke, Caleb. Sweethearts. What…?”

The boys were crying. Tears tracking down their faces. She wanted to move forward and embrace them, comfort them, but she couldn’t. Her limbs were frozen in place.

“Please,” They said in unison. “Hurry.”

The magical orbs darkened. The ceiling gave way and Veth saw a large, looming figure with wild hair, a sincere grin. The soothing smell of nature, pine, and clear wind swept through her, and Veth was calm.

Someone appeared in the chair, between the boys. A green, cloaked figure, vaguely familiar. Veth couldn’t see his face, aside from a small grin.

“Take care of my little sapphire, will you?” A chuckle.

Then he raised a hand and snapped his fingers, and Veth was sent into nothingness.

-

She woke slowly. Painfully.

Nott knew when she roused on a soft surface that she had been asleep for a long time. Her muscles were stiff, and there was a dull ache in her gut, but she was alive.

She sat up. Groaned as she worked the tightness from her limbs. Blearily, she opened her eyes and looked around.

She sat on a bedroll, but it was thicker and comfier than the bedrolls they had been travelling with. There was an extra blanket tucked around her and a small wooden tray, with a waterskin and bread. An unfamiliar tent was propped around her.

Nott didn’t much care at the moment where she was. She saw the bread and dived for it, chowing down feverishly. It didn’t completely satisfy her, but she felt more awake now.

Awake enough to wonder what the hell happened.

Nott tried to stand up, find the kids or anyone, really, but as she got to her knees, her legs gave out under her. She let out a breathless groan.

The flap to the tent flipped open and Nott scrambled back. A large shadow fell over her and a soft, startled noise came from the figure.

“Oh, Nott,” Came a familiar voice. “It’s just me.”

Nott looked up, and up, until she saw the face of Nila, soft and smiling just as she remembered it.

“Nila?” She asked, sitting up and flinching at a stitch in her side. Nila made a soft ‘oh!’ sound before kneeling beside her.

“Here, this will help.” She held out a handful of berries. Nott took a few from her palm and bit into them, relishing in the gentle healing magic that flowed through her sore muscles. “How do you feel?”

“Better.” Nott sat up a bit straighter, last night’s memories hitting her. “What happened? Where are…?” She trailed off, not knowing how to explain their situation.

“The kids?” Nila finished for her, smiling. “That’s a very interesting curse that’s been cast on them.”

“Can you dispel it?” Nott asked, hopeful.

Nila shook her head. “Unfortunately not. That is beyond our abilities.”

Nott’s face pinched, confused. “‘Our’?”

“Yes, it was my tribe that found you the other night.” Nila sat up a bit straighter, proud. “They trusted me that I knew you all. I am happy to see that you have reunited with your friends.”

“Yes, well, now I have to get them back to normal.” Nott sighed, placing her head in her hands. Then she shot back up, eyes wide. “Are they okay?”

Nila nodded. “They are fine. They were very worried about you, but we took good care of them while you were asleep.”

Nott paused a long moment before asking, “Did I die?”

There was a sigh, and large fuzzy hands taking hers. “I think so. Momentarily. My tribe was passing by when we heard the screaming. Beauregard, I believe. I did not recognize them as kids, not at first, until I saw you there. Once we chased off your attackers, my partner, Kitor, revived you. I prayed to the spirits that we were not too late.” She smiled, sadly. “We almost were. But Kitor assured me that you would be fine after some rest. I am glad that was the case.”

“Me too,” Nott murmured. Then, louder, “We’re heading to Felderwin. I know of a chemist who can change them back.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Nila said, happily, squeezing Nott’s hands. “Although, I did not realize that they had lost their memories, too. Beauregard, especially, did not trust us until we brought you back.”

“Did you tell them anything?”

“No.” Nila shook her head. “Beyond some confusion at first, they believe we have only just met.”

“Okay.” Nott let out a slow breath. “I wasn’t sure how to explain it all to them.” She paused, waiting for a question, before realizing that Nila wasn’t going to pry. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Can I see them?”

Nila stood up and helped Nott right herself. “They’re right this way.”

Nila’s tribe had completely taken over the field. Tall tents inhabited the area, almost village-size, with occasional makeshift fireplaces in between them with fresh fruit or crops roasting on sticks. Firbolgs of many shapes and sizes passed by, nodding politely to Nott and Nila before continuing onto their daily duties. Or whatever firbolgs did in a tribe. The sun was lowering close to the horizon, and soon meals would be passed around.

“We don’t usually set up camp so close to the roads, but we didn’t want to risk moving you,” Nila said, bending down slightly.

“I’m sorry if we interrupted your trip.” Nott wasn’t sure exactly what Nila’s tribe was doing in this area, but she was grateful they were around.

“It is not a problem.” Nila looked down at her, a large paw-like hand settling on her shoulder. “You helped me rescue my family. I could only do the same for yours.”

Right. Her husband and son. She thought back to hearing Nila’s story for the first time, the way her heart clenched and a sickening dread knotted in her stomach. She couldn’t let the same thing happen to another family.

“Uh, you mentioned you wanted to prove yourself to your tribe,” Nott began, changing the subject before could think about it further. “How did that go?”

Nila grinned down at her. “It went very well. I feel like my tribe trusts me again. I help out planning attack strategies now. And they believed me when I said I knew you all.”

Nott smiled back, genuinely relieved. “That’s good.”

She had a question on her lips, one she’d been thinking about since meeting Nila for the first time. Something that could maybe help her decide what she was planning to do. She opened her mouth to say it, but that was when they entered what could be called the ‘main’ part of camp.

There was an opening where firbolg children ran freely, circling around the largest fire in the field, meant only for warmth and light. There was a group of children playing a familiar game; a firbolg child faced a tree while others tried to sneak up behind them.

In hesitant Zemnian, the child shouted, “Ein! Drei!”

A small voice from behind them, “Ein zwei .”

“Zwei!”

Nila and Nott paused just outside the encampment and watched, a warmth blooming in Nott’s chest. She began to count the heads; Caleb, Yasha, Fjord, and Jester were seen behind the firbolg child, with many other children of the tribe. They froze in place as the one facing the tree turned on them, examined them for a long moment, before turning back and counting all over again.

Nott scanned the camp for any more faces, and found Beau watching the game from beside one of the tents. She had one of the staffs that the tribe members carry around and during pauses in the game, she would practice swinging it in the air. During a lull in the excitement, her eyes wandered until they took notice of Nott.

Nott saw Beau’s eyes widen before she dropped the staff and ran, exclaiming, “ Nott! ”

The next moment, Nott had an armful of Beau, who dropped to her knees to wrap her arms around Nott’s middle. Her head buried into Nott’s shoulder and Nott only rubbed circles on the back of her vestiges, ignoring the tremors that ran through Beau’s body. And when Beau reeled back, Nott ignored her puffy eyes and the tear tracks down her cheeks, too.

“You’re okay, right?” She sniffed.

Nott ran her hand down the loose strands of hair that escaped from Beau’s braids. “Yes, I am.”

Then she was assaulted on both sides. Small pairs of arms gripped onto her, and Nott was sent tumbling to the ground.

Jester crawled up to her chest, a bright smile on her face. “You’re back, you’re back!”

Beside her, Caleb grinned up at her. “Nila said you would be okay.”

Jester reeled back, kneeling above Nott. “I told the Traveler to protect you, and he did, didn’t he!” Her small tail swished behind her, proud.

Nott chuckled. “He did.”

Yasha and Fjord ran up next, herding the two kids off of Nott and helping her up. Yasha hugged her first, tightly around her middle, taking a slow deep breath. Immediately after, Fjord wrapped himself around the both of them, burying his face in her shoulder.

“Don’t do that again,” He said, in a voice meant to be demanding but came out as pleading. Normally Nott would have a snarky reply ready for him, but in this case, she held back.

Instead, she pat his back in what she hoped was a soothing way. “I won’t.”

“My tribe is fascinated by Mr. Clay,” Nila said from beside the group. “Many of us haven’t seen a firbolg quite like him. And such a talkative child he is!”

The kids around her giggled as Nott turned to Nila, confused. “Talkative?”

Nila turned over shoulder and shouted, “Kitor!”

A large firbolg, taller than Nila or what Caduceus used to reach, approached them with a pink bundle in his arms. Nott recognized him as Nila’s mate, last she saw of him so long ago. Beside him, prancing along and looking much older and healthier, Nila’s son, Asar.

As the pair got closer, the pink bundle in Kitor’s arms straightened. Caduceus, with new robes much like the ones the other firbolg children wore, kicked and pushed against the arms holding him and chanted in a small voice, “Nott! Nott!”

Kitor passed Caduceus to Nott once they were close enough, and the baby firbolg placed his fuzzy hands on her cheeks and grinned. “Nott!”

Nott felt a similar pride fill in her chest as when Luke said his first words (it was ‘Dada’ and it made Yeza cry - as much as she teased him for it, she did the same thing when he said ‘Mama’ for the first time). She placed a hand over his on her cheek. “Yes, it’s me.”

The kids giggled; Beau leaned over and whispered something to Yasha. Nott glanced over at them and caught a burst of snickers. She had the distinct feeling that they had something to do with Caduceus’ sudden vocabulary.

Nila leaned over and asked, “Would you like something to eat?”

Nila’s tribe traditionally gathered in small groups to eat and socialize. A majority of their meals were made up of nuts and fruits and crops, with the occasional slice of meat. The kids gathered around Nott, and they sat with Nila and her family as meals were passed out. During this time, Nott learned that she had been out for almost two days since their attack.

“We were not sure how long it would take for you to recover,” Kitor said, as he finished his side of the story. “But I am glad you are back on your feet.”

“I’m not sure if I’ve thanked you yet,” Nott said, poking at the jerky in her fist. “For everything you’ve done for us.”

“Please,” Kitor said, extending his arms around Nila and Asar. “Take it as us just repaying a favor.”

Beau, ever the perceptive one, looked to Nott with a pinched expression. “What does that mean?”

“Oh.” She looked to Nila, who shrugged helplessly. Nott cleared her throat. “Well, uh. I was once with a group of adventurers, and we helped rescue Nila’s family from some....very bad people.” She omitted the part where watching Lorenzo burn had given her a satisfaction she hadn’t felt since splashing acid in that goblin’s face.

Beau’s jaw dropped in wonder. “That’s incredible.”

Caleb looked up from beside her. “Does that make you a hero?”

Nott shrugged - her own opinions about heroism had been skewed beyond any quick honest answer - so Nila chimed in.

“To us, she is a hero,” Nila said proudly, entwining her fingers with Kitor’s.

Caleb grinned back up Nott. “Like Taryon Darrington!”

Nott resisted cringing at the comparison, and instead pat Caleb fondly on the head. “Yeah, sure.”

The kids joined the other firbolg children after meals were finished, and Nott hung around with Nila, Caduceus in her arms. He babbled on, mostly nonsense, but it was still the most Nott had heard since their transformations.

“Asar has helped raise some of our tribe’s children,” Nila said, watching her son across the field, playing with the other kids. “We noticed Mr. Clay has not spoken as much as he should and Asar wanted to try teaching him.” She grinned, holding back a laugh. “Your other little ones wanted to help out.”

“That is like them.” Nott hadn’t realized that Caduceus’ lack of speaking had been abnormal. She didn’t really know anything about firbolgs. But as she watched him now, babbling on and on in toddler speak, she wished she had done something sooner. “Do you know anything about this spell?”

“Not much,” Nila admitted. “But I talked to some of our other druids. We know that the curse has reverted them to a younger age and erased their memories of anything past that point in their lives. But we have noticed something.” She turned to Nott with a soft smile. “It appears to me that they respond to their prior emotional connections, even if they do not realize it, or remember it.”

Nott’s expression pinched together. “What do you mean?”

“It did not take much for Beau to trust me. I gave them some berries for their minor wounds, and showed her my collection of feathers, and after that, she lost any hostility towards me.” Nila spoke in a prideful way, like she was proud to have figured this part of the spell out. “The wizard man, Caleb, he is that little human, right? But the others have been calling him Bren?”

Nott sighed. “Yes. I’ll ask him about that when I get them back to normal.”

Nila hummed, contemplating. “I am curious to hear that story.” A pause, and she added, “The three I don’t recognize, they are wonderful as kids. I hope to meet them when they are turned back into adults.”

“Hopefully we’ll cross paths again,” Nott agreed.

“But as I was saying,” Nila continued. “It is not only me that they trusted quickly. How long have you been traveling with them like this?”

Nott thought about it, counting the days on her fingers. “A week, I think?”

Nila hummed again. “That sounds a bit soon to me for them to look up to you as a guardian, and care about you enough to mourn you. I think they’ve grown to trust you so much over a week because they trusted you before the transformations.”

“That makes sense…I think.” Nott absently scratched at the peach fuzz surrounding Caduceus’ head. He busied himself with the laces on Nott’s shirt, pulling them and twisting them into knots. “I don’t really understand magic.”

“It is only speculation,” Nila added, though she didn’t sound convinced of that. “But, I have news. Our tribe will travel with you for a day or two towards your destination. We just want to make sure you’re fully recovered and protected.”

“That would be...a relief.” As much as Nott wanted to argue for the sake of being polite, after the last few days, she could use a few other adults to watch the kids for her - or even to have an adult conversation with. It was difficult not to treat the others as if they knew and understood their situation.

“We only wish to help,” Nila promised. “We can provide a spare tent for your group. I believe yours was burned on the night of the attack. Don’t worry about keeping watch during the night, you need the rest.”

Nott smiled up at her. “Thank you, Nila, really.”

Caduceus quietly murmured to himself, “Ni-la, Ni-la,” and the conversation dropped.

Night hit quickly after that, and just as Nila promised, a tent was provided for them. It was much larger than their previous tent, leaving each of them with their own space as Nott laid out the bedrolls.

She set up her own in the middle of the tent, and allowed the kids to get settled as she pulled out the book of Taryon Darrington’s adventures. As she flipped to their most recent page, she caught Beau tugging her bedroll closer, until she was pressed against Nott’s side.

“It’s just warmer,” She said when she saw Nott watching - a thin lie that was made obvious by Beau’s blush.

Nott didn’t pry, and she kept her mouth shut as the other kids slowly tugged their own bedrolls closer, until they were all in one big pile in the middle of the tent. She had a feeling that this was a result from the events in the past couple days, but she wasn’t complaining. She missed them just as much.

Just as Nott was about to continue reading, Beau interrupted. “Can you tell us about that group of adventurers you were with?”

“...Oh.” She wished Kitor hadn’t said what he did earlier. Spinning a lie out of the complicated truth, she said, “Sure. Uh, this group I was once a part of, we were called, ah….the Mighty Nein.”

She told them about a badass monk who was her own authority, about a half-orc with the curse of an eldritch god, about a troubled wizard who would do anything for this group of misfits, about a tiefling cleric with a knack for finding trouble, about a fallen barbarian with a habit of wandering off, about a firbolg cleric with a voice as soothing as his tea, and a tiefling bloodhunter who had the personality of a peacock.

She told them about returning parents to thieving children, about a mischievous Kenku who was fond of daggers, about underground merfolk, gnolls, bandits, circuses, pirates. She wasn’t anywhere close to running out of stories when she was sure the children had fallen asleep.

Nott settled in her bedroll, Caduceus curled up on one side and Beau on the other, the rest of the children in a partial circle around her. She rubbed soothing circles on Caduceus’ back as he slept, more for relaxing herself than him.

She started to love these kids, really. But she missed her friends. She needed them back.

Soon.

Chapter Text

They were back on the wagon the very next day, but this time with company. Nila’s tribe followed from the side of the road, getting odd looks from other passing carts, but otherwise were fun companions Nott was relieved to have. The firbolg kids, Asar included, would walk from beside the cart and converse with her kids. They were fast friends; if Nott had to guess, it was the fact that these were the first children they could play with since the night they transformed.

Asar climbed up the side of the cart, slightly tilting the cart. He grinned up at Nott. “Can your kids come and play with us?”

Nott smiled and took a moment of secret pride. She turned to the other kids in the cart, who perked up at Asar’s appearance. “Go ahead.”

Yasha climbed over the side of the cart first, then held out a hand for Fjord. The both of them then lifted Caleb and Jester over the side, and the four followed Asar to the rest of the firbolg children, who scattered in a bout of joyous laughter. Nott chuckled to herself and snapped the reigns, the horses picking up the pace.

She felt a presence beside her and Beau leaned against her shoulder. She had been oddly quiet all morning. She picked at her breakfast and, despite the healthy weight she had been gaining in the past week, Nott was worried. It looked like Beau hasn’t slept at all.

“How’s Cad?” She asked, gripping the reins.

Beau shrugged. “Nila took him just now. They really like him.”

“I don’t think they see many firbolgs outside of their own tribe. And Duecy is very...pink.” Nott paused and let the moment pass. She glanced over at the group of kids running ahead of them, and wondered why Beau chose to be beside her instead of out there.

“Beau,” She said, receiving a hum in return. “How do you feel?”

Beau shrugged again. “Tired.” Hm.

She used to get the same response from Yeza, after he worked himself near death one year after they built the apothecary. He threw himself into work soon after they married, and it was only when Veth finally cornered him that she found out that he missed his mothers. They weren’t able to come to their wedding and he was trying to get over it, too afraid to upset Veth if he suggested a trip to Zadash.

Instead, she had packed their bags and they took off that same day. It was a lovely trip, too; his mothers hadn’t met Veth until that moment and they took to her immediately. Turned out, they were just as odd as Veth, and were very dear to Yeza. They fit together like the perfect family Veth always wanted, and she was accepted into it immediately.

Now, she got that same vibe from Beau. That something was upsetting her. Nott tucked the reins under her, after she was sure the horses would be alright for a while, and turned fully to face Beau.

“Beau, if anything made you upset,” Nott began, and she wished Caduceus was back to normal and could give them both some much-needed wisdom, “You can tell me.”

Beau didn’t reply for a while. She had a distant, twisted look on her face, like she was debating if she should give in or throw up a protective shield of anger. She looked around, glanced at the group of children that had gotten some distance from the cart, but still within sight. Beau sighed and leaned against Nott’s shoulder, almost slumping over.

“I keep having nightmares,” She said, nearly muffled by Nott’s cloak. “ Really bad nightmares.”

“About what?” Nott asked, using one hand to loosely grasp Beau’s.

Beau was silent. Nott let her think. Then, finally, Beau hiccuped, and Nott realized she was crying.

“I don’t think the others saw,” She said, in a weak voice. “Well - they did, after, when Nila came, but they didn’t see the… the blood , and your eyes, when--when he stabbed you, and you looked so scared, and I don’t like seeing you scared, but then it stopped, but not in a good way, like everything in you stopped, and I didn’t like it, and I keep seeing it when I go to sleep--” Her voice picked up as she spoke, her words tumbling over themselves until her hiccups overcame her, her shoulders shaking with the effort to speak.

Nott leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Beau, who gripped her tightly and buried her face into her throat. She let out long hiccuping sobs, and Nott rubbed her back soothingly. She pushed them into a sway, rocking them gently until Beau’s breathing evened out and her tight grip on Nott’s shirt loosened.

Nott pressed a brief kiss to the top of Beau’s head before she pulled back, using her sleeve to roughly wipe her face. She leaned back against Nott’s shoulder, sniffling.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Nott said, quietly. She had hoped none of them saw that moment, but out of all of them, she was glad it was only Beau. Beau was strong, stronger than she should be at her age, and Nott knew she would pull through. “But I promise that I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Beau nodded against her and Nott let the silence fall. She knew that it was best to let Beau talk when she needed to. She only wished that it was Caleb who could talk to her instead - those two had a special kind of bond that Nott couldn’t hope to replicate. So she let Beau rest beside her and stay reassured that Nott was still there, and not going anywhere.

They had made plenty of progress towards Felderwin by the time Nila came to announce that they were setting up camp. Beau stuck to her side as she pulled the cart off the side of the road. The two of them helped Nila’s tribe set up a bonfire and pass out meals, and Nott allowed the kids to spend any remaining energy they have.

They all seemed to have given up on running and playing, and Nott observed them from a short distance as they ate. Beau tucked into her side, Nott half-heartedly listened to their conversation.

“You guys are so fuzzy!” Jester noted, running a hand down Asar’s arm.

“Yeah, but you have horns!” Asar replied, and traced the soft ridges on Jester’s growing stubs. He didn’t seem to mind the attention as long as it was reciprocated.

“Caddy is very pink,” Caleb asked from Asar’s other side. “How come you aren’t pink?”

Asar shrugged. “I don’t know. Mama says people come in all colors.”

“Like me! I’m blue!” Jester shouted, excited. “And my Mama’s red! And Fjord’s green!” She pointed to Fjord, across from their circle.

Fjord startled at being pointed out, and seemed to hunch in on himself - but it was too late, the attention was already on him.

Asar leaned forward with a scrutinizing gaze. “I’ve never seen someone with tusks in person before.” Then he paused, considering. “No, that’s not true. I have once.”

Fjord perked up, leaning closer. “When? Where?”

Asar looked around, spotted his parents a good distance away, then conspiratorially whispered, “My Papa and I were once taken by these bad people. When we were in a cage, I saw an orc-man - he looked sort of like you - with two others. They were also being taken prisoner. I didn’t get a good look, but his tusks were really flat and stubby.”

Nott stiffened in place. She watched the kids nod along, eyes wide at the prospect of being taken against your will or trapped in a cage. Fjord appeared the most effected; a drifting hand lifted up to his mouth and poked at his growing tusks.

“Did they survive?” Yasha asked, the one with the least amount of reaction to this story.

Asar began to nod, then turned it into a shrug. “I don’t know. I think so. My Mama came with other people who were rescuing their friends. So probably.”

Beau straightened beside Nott and gave her a quizzical look. “Was that you and the Mighty Nein?”

Nott slowly nodded. “Yes, yes. Some of our people were taken and we rescued them. Those bad people are gone for good though, don’t worry.”

Beau nodded, relieved, and went back to her meal.

It was only when the tents were set up and Nott was beginning to roll out their bedrolls when Fjord approached her. She could tell what was on his mind by the way he wouldn’t leave his tusks alone. She could hear his growing talons scrape against bone, an eerie sound that mimicked the future.

So when he came towards her, Nott slapped his hand away from his mouth.

“Leave them be,” She ordered at his startled expression.

“O-okay,” He said, clasping his hands together as if lock them in place. “Um, Asar was telling us earlier about seeing an orc-man while...while he was imprisoned. You were the one that rescued him?”

“Yes, and his father,” Nott answered, already having prepared herself when she saw the cogs turning in his head earlier. “And, yes. That half-orc was part of the Mighty Nein.”

Fjord’s eyes widened with something like admiration. Nott couldn’t hold back a smile.

“Was he cool?” Fjord asked, swaying on his feet.

Nott swallowed back her worst complaints about Fjord’s adult self as she said, “He was...interesting. Harsh sometimes, but he looked out for our group. He had his soft spots.” Fjord watched with a sparkle in his eyes and Nott added, “You know who else he was?”

“Who?” Fjord cocked his head.

“Captain Tusktooth,” Nott said, grinning. “Maybe sometime I can tell you all about our time on the sea.” Well, what she remembered, which wasn’t much. She was below deck a good majority of the time, and she wasn’t big on helping Fjord with his weird god shit - especially the water part. Avantika stood out when she came into their lives, but she always gave Nott an uneasy feeling. Maybe she’ll skip that part.

Fjord beamed at the mention of the Captain. “Please!”

Nott chuckled. “And you know, Captain Tusktooth was known for his...fearsome tusks. So if you want to be like him, you got to keep yours. Understood?”

Fjord nodded dutifully, and Nott was relieved for reasons she couldn’t explain.

She tucked the kids in, and at Fjord’s insistence, retold the tale of Captain Tusktooth from a different perspective; now, not an exaggerated fairytale, but the real story. Altered, of course, for the audience.

She told them about Daschilla and the Cloven Crystals, of the secret temples and hallucinogenic fruit. She told them about a creepy eldritch god with entitlement problems and how the Mighty Nein will prevent it from escaping, no matter what.

When the kids were finally asleep, Nott carefully crept from her bedroll. Beau, who had been propped up beside her, was carefully lowered onto a soft pillow before Nott snuck out of their tent and crept across the camp. The fire created a dull glow through the camp and illuminated Nott’s path to the tent she was looking for.

She stood outside the flap and whispered, “Nila? Are you awake?”

There was some shuffling inside, until the flap opened and Nila peered out. She looked back, murmured something to Kitor, before exiting the tent.

“Nott? What is the matter?” She asked.

“I...need to ask you something,” Nott said, hushed, glancing around the camp.

Nila seemed to understand, and lead Nott through the camp towards the fire. There was one firbolg keeping watch, who greeted them with a nod as they approached.

“Varan,” She said in a low voice. “Do you mind taking a walk real quick?” She nodded, not-so-subtly, towards Nott, and the firbolg only glanced between them before getting the message. He tucked his hands into the interior of his coat before taking off into the darkness.

Nila lead Nott towards the logs surrounding the fire, acting as benches. They perched there in silence for a long moment as Nott gathered her thoughts.

“Nott?” Nila asked again. “Is something the matter?”

Nott took a deep breath. “I…You know my friend, I mentioned, in Felderwin. The one that could turn my friends back?”

Nila nodded, though her pinched expression showed that she was still confused.

“This….friend,” Nott began, trying to still her shaking hands. “Is a Halfling. And he has—had a wife. Who was also a Halfling. And they had a son together.” Nott paused.

“I see,” Nila said, to fill the silence.

“But then his wife disappeared one day, and he may think she’s dead.” Nott locked her fingers together and took another deep breath. “But she’s not dead. She’s just different. Very different. She’s no longer a Halfling, but something...uglier. Scarier.” She looked down at her talons, long and menacing against her rough green skin.

Nott looked up at Nila, who was watching her with wide, all-seeing eyes. “How do I tell him that his wife is alive?”

Nila was watching Nott with an unreadable expression on her face, and for a moment, Nott was sure she was going to ask who, exactly, the wife is.

Then, Nila said, “I suppose you could just tell him.”

Nott shook her head. “But what if he’s afraid of what she looks like now?”

“Does his wife love him?”

“So much,” Nott whispered.

“Does he love her?”

“I don’t know.” A pause. “Last I knew he did.”

“If he is truly devoted to her, and loves her like a husband should, then he will still love her even if she looks different. It is the same person inside, right?”

Nott’s knuckles paled as her clasped hands tightened. “I believe so.”

There was a moment where neither of them spoke, the crackling of fire filling the silence. Nila shifted beside her before holding a small bag up.

“Would you like to check my smell bag to be sure?” Nila asked, genuine.

Nott thought about declining, but something inside her felt raw at exposing her story, even indirectly, and she wasn’t entirely sure about anything anymore. Wordlessly, she took the bag from Nila’s hand and stuck her nose in it.

It had the usual mixed scents of earth, pine, and berries. Nothing stuck out at first, and Nott was almost disappointed, but then she caught it - the faint whiff of fresh sourgrass, when first plucked from the pot and chopped for potions. She nearly felt the taste on the back of her tongue.

Tying up the bag, she handed it back to Nila, the knot in her chest loosened somewhat. She gave Nila a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” She said. “I do feel better.”

Nila smiled back. “I am glad.”

“I think I should turn in now.” Nott hopped off the log and faced Nila. “I’m sorry for keeping you up.”

“It is not a problem. I’m glad I could be of help.” Nila stood up, and Nott began to walk off when she added, “I hope you are reunited with your husband and son, Nott.”

Nott flushed - she didn’t know her story was that transparent - just hastily nodded and disappeared in the darkness. She found their tent and slipped inside silently, resuming her place in her bedroll. Surrounded by her children, and the weight in her chest lighter than it had been in days, she drifted off peacefully.

Chapter Text

She sat beside the river, underneath the tree where Yeza proposed, except this time she was alone. The village of Felderwin was not too far away, giving this little space just enough privacy. She was Veth, a tan Halfling with a worn dress and a necklace of buttons, her hair braided over her shoulders.

But this felt different. She knew she was Veth, but she also knew that this was a dream. She wasn’t actually here; outside of this, she was Nott the goblin, taking care of six children. But right now she was Veth, and she was alone.

Maybe not.

Someone sat down beside her. She could tell who it was just from spotting lavender skin from the corner of her eye, from the sway of a red coat, from the jewelry that jingled from his horns.

“Molly,” She said in disbelief, finally turning to face her lost friend.

He sat before her, with a pointed grin and peacock feathers climbing up his face. Like the day he died, cocky and proud.

“Hello dear,” He greeted, pleasantly. His eyes were entirely red, but she could tell by the subtle tilt to his head that he was examining her. “So this was you?”

Veth nodded. “Before I died.” She examined him in return. “Why are you here?”

“You asked for advice.” Mollymauk paused, watching Nott. “Perhaps you don’t remember. But you did.” He looked back out to the river. “I overheard you talking to Nila - she’s a dear, isn’t she? Anyway, I’m sad to hear about your husband and son.”

Veth sighed. “I want to see them so badly. But I can’t, not with how I look right now.”

“Are you sure?” Molly asked. “From what I recall, I stuck out like Exandria’s most offensive peacock.” He smirked, a hooked fang digging into his lip. “And yet you lot said such nice things about me.”

Veth couldn’t hold back a smile. “You were a nice person, Molly.”

“And you weren’t?”

Veth shrugged. Mollymauk tsked and held a hand up; the scene around them changed. The river in front of them and the village of Felderwin rippled like a stone tossed on the water. The colors morphed themselves into different shapes and a new scene was created.

A long road stretched out before them and a building built in front of them. Outside was Nott, from a very long time ago, holding an envelope. She shoved buttons and trinkets and gold into it, along with a scrawled letter, before sealing it tightly and walking into the mailing building.

“That was for them, right?” Molly asked. Peering from the side of the building, out of sight, was a long-ago Molly with a quizzical expression.

Veth nodded. “Of course. I had to look out for my family.”

“You always do.”

The scene changed again. Narrow walls closed in around them; the sky darkened until it was almost completely dark. It was a damp cave, surrounded by piles of treasures and ancient antiques. It was the Mighty Nein, before Caduceus, with Kiri. It was the empty chamber with a deep pool against the wall. This scene’s Nott drew up a magical illusion around Kiri, shielding her from any danger. Then she anxiously paced the room, sipping from her flask, muttering to herself as she eyed the pool of water. After steeling herself, she pressed her toes to the edge and dived in.

“I never understood what you were afraid of,” Molly said beside her. “Always thought it was some goblin quirk. But that’s not it, is it?” Veth shook her head. Molly continued. “I used to have nightmares of waking up buried underground again. Of not remembering who I was.” He turned to her, then, an unusually serious expression on his face. “You faced your greatest fear for us. For your family.”

“I suppose,” Veth said, slowly, though she sounded unconvinced even to her own ears. “But--I’m not entirely Veth anymore. She died . What if it’s like you said? ‘That person is dead and not me-- ’”

“Let me stop you right there,” Molly interrupted, and the scene faded away, once again showing the river and Felderwin. He faced her and put his hands on her shoulders, grounding Veth to the present. “That was about me. Whoever died before me abandoned this body and I took it. I lived as Mollymauk and I died as Mollymauk. But you--” He poked a solid finger to her chest. “You know who you are. Maybe your old body died, but you didn’t.” He looked to Felderwin and gestured off into the distance. “Whoever they are, you have a desire to be with them. Chase that feeling.”

Veth followed his gaze and, hesitantly, she lifted a hand. To her will, the scenery changed for a third time. Four walls were lifted around them, closing them in to the homely apothecary that Veth had learned to love. Yeza fluttered around the room with Luke at his heels, hefting around a box of potions and organizing them on the shelves. A double of Veth, one with an apron and a stain of something red on her nose, took dutiful notes of their inventory. As Yeza passed, he kissed the corner of her mouth and swiped whatever the stain was from her nose to wipe off on his apron. And like clockwork, they worked around each other, stepping in perfect sync even as Luke skirted around their legs, not quite worked into the system yet.

“Yeza,” Molly said after a beat, like the name dawned on him.

Veth nodded. “And our boy, Luke.”

Abruptly, Mollymauk cleared his throat and, nonchalantly, held a hand out. “Well, it’s been a pleasure to meet you folks. I didn’t quite catch a name?”

Veth grinned, slowly, catching on. She took Molly’s hand and shook it. “Veth Brenatto. And you are?”

A fanged smirk drew up Molly’s lips. “Mollymauk Tealeaf’s the name. Don’t you forget it.”

They stared at each other a moment longer, in the wake of their reaffirmed identities, until the absurdity caught up to them. Their smiles cracked into laughter, and when Veth opened her eyes, they were back under the tree beside the river. Molly was smiling, and maybe he wasn’t real and this was a dream, but he felt real. As if to confirm this, Veth leaned against his side and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Molly,” She said, quiet yet resounding in the silence that followed their laughter. “I think I’m ready.”

Mollymauk wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You always were, dear. Good luck.”

Veth closed her eyes and Nott woke up.

-

Nila’s tribe didn’t stay around for long as morning stretched its way across the sky. They traveled together for the first hour until the tribe turned off the road, continuing their trek across the wilds. Nila, Kitor, and Asar came to say goodbye. The kids took their turns talking over each other to Asar, trying to pile on their goodbyes and promises to see each other again (at each one Nott winced, feeling a moment of guilt that Asar couldn’t keep these friends).

Nila hugged Nott, and when they first met, Nott wouldn’t have ever let Nila get that close; but now, she buried her face in the fur around Nila’s neck and held on, thankful for the support in the last couple days and the company of other adults. Someone else who understood their situation.

Kitor kept it polite, but slapped a heavy hand on Nott’s back with a final farewell. And as Nott pulled the reins and their cart moved steadily down the road, Nila’s tribe disappeared into the forest until they were out of sight.

Tomorrow was Felderwin. By Nott’s estimation, and the countless times she’s traveled with Yeza to Alfield in the past, she would say they would come into town early in the morning. It filled her with a winding sense of excitement and dread. On one hand, she would see her husband again. Their apothecary, their son. Her home.

On the other hand, she was a goblin. There was no telling how they would react to that.

But, for the first time in a long time, she felt ready. There was a tugging sensation within her that pulled her towards Felderwin, towards the apothecary, towards her family. She wanted to see them, no matter their reaction to her.

She couldn’t explain this new feeling. Looking back on her dream the night before, the clearest dream she had had in the last week, Nott couldn’t be sure what parts of it were real. It could have been her subconscious trying to reason with herself by taking on the form of Molly; but something deeper inside her understood it as the final farewell from their old friend. A reassurance that he was watching over them, waiting for them.

It certainly raised her spirits. Dream or not, she had new renewed energy to confront her past. Looking to the kids, who busied themselves with games and toys, Nott knew she could do it with them.

The first day by themselves after the bandit incident went a lot smoother than Nott expected. Maybe it was the lasting effects of her dream or knowing that Felderwin was so close, but she wasn’t as afraid of being alone as she thought she was going to be. She couldn’t speak for the kids, however; during the day’s drive, she found them constantly checking their surroundings, especially as daylight waned on the horizon.

In the last few rays of sunlight, Nott took note of dark clouds in the distance. She clicked her tongue and hoped they could outrun the storm. Because of that, Nott pushed off setting up camp until it was nearly black around them. They needed to get as close as they could now before they were inevitably rained on.

As the moon cast its glow over the treetops, Nott pulled the cart to a stop a fair distance from the road. She was hesitant to start a fire, at first, but after watching Caleb trip over a lump in the ground and nearly yank Jester down with him, Nott decided it would do for a little while.

They set the tent up, a large one that Nila gifted them, and Nott passed out rations for the evening. As they ate by the firelight, Nott noticed something odd; the three oldest, Beau, Yasha, and Fjord, crept off to a corner to themselves by the edge of the fire. They kept their conversation hushed, almost conspiratorially, and it made Nott raise an eyebrow in their direction. Yasha saw it, from the distance, and whispered something to the other two. Their conversation ceased.

Nott would have investigated, if Caduceus hadn’t started reaching for her flask that reflected the firelight.

She held it out of his reach even as his lip puckered. “No, no touchy.”

“No touchy,” Caduceus repeated. Then stretched his hands out for the flask again.

“Hey now,” She warned, trying to tug his hand away from the air. “You can’t drink this. You’re not old enough. I don’t think you’ll even like it.”

He said something garbled. His indecipherable toddler speak had always rung familiar to Nott, but she couldn’t ever place from where. She always thought it might have been broken Common, but it hit her at that moment; it sounded like the grunts and groans of the giants they saw briefly when crossing into the Menagerie Coast, but, well. Spoken by a baby.

“You don’t know Common, do you?” Nott asked. Caduceus blubbered something she didn’t understand. She took it as a yes. “Well, either way. Not yours.”

“Not,” Caduceus repeated. He grinned and pointed at her. “Nott! Nott!”

Nott huffed a laugh. “You are lucky you’re cute.”

Jester crawled up to Nott’s side and poked Caduceus’ cheek. “Caddy! Can you say Jester? Jes-ster?”

Caduceus giggled. “Jes! Jes-ser!”

“Yes! Jester!” Jester clapped her hands together in joy.

Caduceus copied the motion and the two of them were a chorus of random clapping and variations of Jester’s name.

Jester insisted that Caduceus try to name the rest of them. Although ‘Bren’ sounded mostly like ‘Ben’, and at worst ‘Bwen’, Caleb was just as excited about it. Yasha was shortened to ‘Ash-a’ and sometimes just ‘Ash’, and she didn’t seem to mind at all. It was a challenge to get Caduceus to say the D in Fjord’s name, but for now, Fjord was ‘Fjor’. Beau was the easiest, and she failed at hiding her smile at hearing Caduceus’ pleased chanting of ‘Bo’.

The exchange eventually tired the young firbolg out. He slumped against Nott’s side, mumbling some garbled Giant as he fought off sleep. Nott scooped him up and laid him out on a bedroll, even as he let out a fussy grunt.

“Shush,” Nott said, tucking his wooden pig under his arm. He gripped it and shook it, giggled to himself, before shoving a thumb in his mouth and curling into the fur lining of the bedroll.

Nott corralled the rest of the children inside the tent. She got as far as tucking in Caleb and Jester, side-by-side in one bedroll, before Beau was tugging at her sleeve.

“We need to talk,” She whispered, nodding her head towards the fire, where Yasha and Fjord still waited.

Nott tried not to worry at the implications. She followed Beau out of the tent and knelt in front of the three of them. “Let’s wait until the little ones fall asleep, yeah?”

Then Nott got her first hint; Yasha and Beau both glanced at Fjord, who was the first to nod in agreement. She had an idea what it might be about now.

The kids followed Nott back in the tent and curled up in their bedrolls. Nott propped herself up and flipped through the big book for their last place marked. Running the tips of her claws lightly over Caduceus’ back, she read through the adventures of Taryon Darrington, a story which felt like she last read ages ago.

She placed the marker back between the pages and eyed the tent. Caduceus had drifted off almost as soon as she started reading (and something inside her melted at the idea that Caduceus falls asleep to her voice even without understanding a single word) and the other two little ones were curled up together on the one bedroll, breaths even and deep.

Beau, however, was nudging the other two awake. Yasha jumped in place and blinked her eyes open as Fjord appeared to just wake up, rubbing at his face.

“Is anything wrong?” Nott asked in a hushed whisper.

Fjord startled awake at another jab from Beau. He looked flustered, for a moment, glancing at the sleeping ones, before motioning Nott and the girls out of the tent.

He lead them to the smoldering remains of the fire, just barely casting the area in a dim glow. He shifted on his feet for a moment once the attention was on him, and Beau scoffed.

“He wants to talk about the sword he can summon,” Beau said, then added, “It’s pretty badass.” At that, Fjord smiled.

“Right, the falchion,” Nott said to herself, then hastily added, “I saw it that night. Forgot about it until now.”

“It’s really cool!” Fjord gushed, holding his hand out. “I never could do anything like that before. It’s covered in barnacles and smells like the sea!”

“And can cut up a bandit pretty bad,” Beau added, making Fjord smile wider.

Nott studied Fjord’s outstretched hand for a long moment. “Can you summon it now?”

Fjord shrugged. He looked at his own hand and shook it. Nothing happened.

“Maybe make a fist?” Beau asked.

“Get angry,” Yasha suggested.

Nott knelt in front of Fjord and took his hands in between hers. “Just focus. Think about the falchion. How it feels to hold it.” She took one of his hands and folded it into a loose fist, as if holding something. She wasn’t sure, exactly, how Fjord always summoned his falchion, but she had a good guess after watching him and his weird god powers for so long.

Fjord’s hand clenched between hers. His eyebrows pinched together as he concentrated. There was a flash of something; something yellow, and bright, deep in the recesses of Fjord’s eyes. Then with a startling splash of briney water, the falchion sprouted from his fist, making them both flinch.

Nott huffed a laugh at Fjord’s wonderous expression. “You did it!”

Fjord grinned. Nott backed away as he took an experimental swing. Drops of sea water would twinkle in the air as the firelight reflected off of them. Yasha and Beau watched with awed expressions.

“Be careful,” Nott warned, as Fjord put enthusiastic force behind one swing. “It is a sword, and it is sharp.”

Almost ignoring her warning, Fjord grinned at her. “Can you teach me how to use it like you did Beau? You have a sword, right?”

Nott did, but she can’t remember the last time she used it. She relied mostly on her crossbow. Laughing weakly, she said, “Sure. But right now, how about you put it away so you all can get to bed?”

Fjord frowned but didn’t try to argue. His lips pursed as he focused on the sword, a little wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. Easier than summoning it, the sword dispersed in another splash of seawater and disappeared.

Nott didn’t like the disappointed frown. She nudged Fjord’s shoulder and said, “We can practice some more tomorrow, yeah?”

Fjord nodded, a small smile upturning his lips. Nott corralled the children back into the tent and waited until they got settled once more.

She propped herself up at the mouth of the tent, her crossbow readied nearby. Her fingers anxiously tapped on the handle. She couldn’t keep the dread from building up inside her.

There was shuffling behind her until Nott felt a warm presence next to her. Glancing over, she found Beau, with a blanket tucked around her shoulders and her own crossbow in her lap. Beau gave Nott a smile and silently turned to the dark, scanning the perimeter.

Nott should tell her to go to bed, but by the dark circles that have begun forming beneath Beau’s eyes, she could tell neither of them would get much sleep anyway. This is better for both of them.

The two of them kept watch for the night, under the light of the half moon and endless stars lighting the sky.

Chapter Text

Beau fell asleep part way through the night. She slumped over with a loose fist on her crossbow, her head eventually coming to rest in Nott’s lap. Nott fixed the blanket around her and twisted her fingers into the loose hair around Beau’s braids. One of her arms stuck out from the blanket, her fingers twitching in her sleep. Her arm was thin, lacking the bandages Nott was so accustomed to seeing, protecting her fists, and her hands were not nearly as callous as they should be. Nott wasn’t used to seeing Beau as defenseless as she is now.

This version of Beau had gotten plumper in the past week or so but it wasn’t nearly enough for a child her age. Nott remembered going through a tough period with Luc where he was an extremely picky eater. He was barely past his first year and threw a tantrum if they tried to get him to eat anything that wasn’t a specific five foods. He was tiny for a Halfling boy already, and Veth couldn’t help but worry when he got smaller. It was a painful year of tricking Luc into eating protein until he finally started gaining weight again.

But Beau always had a healthy appetite and never refused food. Every plate put in front of her was emptied first. She never complained.

Nott wanted to believe this was the same situation as Luc, but she had a feeling it was not.

The idea that it could be anything else filled Nott with an unreasonable rage - or maybe it was reasonable. Either way, if they ever went back to Beau’s hometown and ran in her parents, Nott would have some things to say.

The morning rolled around slowly. Nott shook Beau awake just as the first rays of orange crept above the horizon. Beau startled awake, blinking in the darkness and, momentarily panicked, fumbled for her crossbow.

“Shh, shh,” Nott said, and Beau stilled. “Everything’s okay. Here - look.” She pointed to the rising sun.

Beau sat up and groggily rubbed at her eyes, tugging the blanket around her. She blinked up at the sky, slumping into Nott’s shoulder.

“S’pretty,” She murmured, sleep slurring her words.

“You know, where I’m from, when dawn breaks, the birds on the farmlands sing,” Nott said, nudging Beau. She took a slow breath in, out. “I never told any of you this, but I have a son. His name is Luc.” Beau looked up at Nott from her shoulder. Nott faced the rising sun. “When he was a baby, he would wake up right at dawn. Like almost exactly, I’d say he has an internal clock. I would feed him, and then bring him out onto our porch and rock him in the morning light. The birds chirping always soothed him back to sleep.”

“Your son?” Beau asked. “Are you married?”

“I am.” Her wedding ring had been made by a blacksmith in town. It was entirely silver and Yeza had an emerald embedded in the band. She kept it on her button necklace for a long time until her transformation. Then, after foolishly believing she’d wake up from this nightmare, she mailed it back to him as soon as she could. For safekeeping. She missed the weight of it around her neck. “We’ll be seeing him later today, actually. He’s the Halfling man who can help you all--” She cut off, stuck on remembering whatever lie she had told them so long ago. “He can help bring you home.”

Beau fixed her with a look. “How? None of us live near here.”

Nott bit her lip. Shit . “I just need to talk to him and see if he can help out.”

Beau examined Nott for a long moment, as though she could see through her. But the sleep was catching up to her, and Beau relaxed against her shoulder again.

Nott waited another hour or two before, until the sun was fully over the horizon, then began rousing the children. They followed their routine; by the time the cool air of night warmed from the sun, the kids were tucked into the cart and Nott slapped the reins. They were off.

Felderwin was so close. As the day went on, they began to pass farmlands and tall fields that gave Nott an odd mix of nostalgia and dread. She could point out the fields she ran through as a child, sometimes to hide, others to seek some peace. It was when she spotted the river, the same one that ran through the village and passed the tree that Yeza proposed to her under, that she gave up the reins.

“Beau, I need you up here for a bit,” She asked, and Beau was ready to take over.

The others were still lethargic from the early morning. Jester and Caleb scribbled beside each other, coloring and creating shapes and showing each other their work. Yasha watched them, quietly running her fingers through her doll’s hair, which had been dressed in its second outfit. Caduceus had fallen asleep against Fjord, who had relented to his new position as a pillow and also fell asleep.

Nott briefly admired the two sleeping kids before beginning to cast. Using disguise self, she changed her appearance. Two brown braids and a round face, freckles, short but pointed ears. She looked down on her hands, plump with normal nails instead of claws, and she never thought she could be so relieved to see herself.

She looked back up to find three kids in the cart watching her with wide eyes.

Caleb cocked his head at her. “You dropped your disguise.”

For a moment, Nott forgot what she told them so long ago. She faltered, just for a moment, then awkwardly chuckled. “Right. Yeah, I did. Goblins aren’t welcome in Felderwin.”

“Why not?” Jester asked, pausing in her drawing of the Traveler to cock her head up at Nott.

Nott knelt down meet Jester. “People are afraid of goblins there. I don’t want to scare anyone.”

“You’re not scary, Nott!” Then she giggled, like Nott made a joke. Nott forced a smile and looked away.

As they approached the small town, there was a deep rumble of thunder above them. A second later, rain began to sprinkle upon them.

Nott made an attempt at a temporary umbrella with their tent, but it wasn’t waterproof and they were soaked to the bone once they parked the cart in front of the town’s inn. Nott hopped from the side of the cart and ushered the kids inside, only realizing one was missing just as she was about to shut the door.

Yasha stood at the back of the cart, water running in rivulets off of her, as she stared up at the sky with unblinking eyes. Her chest heaved visibly, like she had been sprinting while Nott had her back turned.

The sight had Nott hesitating to call out to her. It vaguely reminded her of sleepwalking; Luc had only two episodes of sleepwalking, back when he first moved into his own room. The one time Veth was awake to find him, she found him in the basement, swaying from side to side and mumbling incoherently.

Looking back, she was partially sure he was saying ‘hurry’ and ‘please’, although she wasn’t sure why the realization was hitting her now.

“Yasha!” She called out when she shook herself from her own stupor.

Yasha inhaled sharply, her eyes blinking as she came back to herself. She looked around, realized she was alone, and sheepishly climbed down from the cart. She avoided meeting Nott’s eyes and ducked inside the inn.

The other kids were a shivering huddle in the lobby of this inn. Nott was partially familiar with Goldfield, even less with the owner, but that was good. The less people who recognized her current face, the less of a chance word will spread.

Simone was behind the counter when they arrived, their expression already pinched from the dripping children in their inn, but painted a smile on their face as Nott approached. Just like Nott had hoped, there was zero recognition on their face.

“Room for….” They trailed off and counted the small heads. “Seven?” Their smile faltered at the tiefling and half-orc, but Nott luckily distracted them with a handful of gold on the counter.

“Yes,” She said, shoving more than enough gold for the room in their direction. “With two beds and a place in the stables.”

They nodded, pocketing the gold with no more questions. They slid a key with the number ‘9’ towards her and sat back in their chair, counting the handful of coins.

Nott herded the children to their room, at the end of the hall to Nott’s relief, and slid the lock into place behind them. With a sigh, she dumped their bags in the corner of the room and flopped on the bed, but resisted the pull of sleep. There was one more thing to be done.

Jester crawled up one side of her, her little blue hands on Nott’s chest. “Nott? Is this where we find the man who will bring us home?”

Nott nodded. Jester beamed. “That’s good, ‘cause I really wanna see my Mama again, you know? I think she misses me very much, and you know, I miss her a lot, too.”

Nott only smiled and pat Jester’s head, too pained by the words to make up an excuse.

She unpacked their bags and got the kids fed with the last of their rations, making a mental note to go shopping the next day. She put out dry sets of clothes for them to change into when they were done and made a pile for their soaked garments. She threw on a cloak over her head and recast her disguise self, but before she left, she tugged the three older kids aside.

“You guys are in charge,” She said. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but just watch the kids and tuck them in when they get tired.”

“Where are you going?” Beau asked, crossing her arms. She had a narrowed look on her face that made Nott straighten, to pose herself as if she had nothing to hide.

“I need to check on someone,” Nott said, vaguely, hoping the kids won’t pry further. By the pinch in Beau’s eyebrows, the tightness in her lips, she had a feeling she might not be able to slip away as easily. But, then--

Fjord clicked his heels together to appear taller and grinned at Nott. “We can do that!”

Beside him, Yasha smiled and nodded, unaware of Beau’s scrutinizing stare.

Before anything else could be said, Nott gave them all brief hugs. “Thank you. I’ll be back.”

Then she turned and left the inn room, making sure that the door locked behind her. And she was off.

The rain was still pouring as she brushed past Simone and out the door of Goldfield. She adjusted the hood, even though the rain soaked through it in minutes. She only hoped that her illusion would hold up.

The apothecary was a short walk from Goldfield, and in what felt all too soon, she stood outside the door to Brenatto Apothecary, still standing with candles in the windows just as it had done for the past eight years.

Nott hesitated. She couldn’t hear any movement inside beyond the pounding of the rain. She reached a hand out. Hovered over the door knob.

Gods. It had been so long. The last time she was here, she was Veth, a wife and a mother. Assistant to the smartest chemist in Felderwin, in the entire Empire if she could bet on it.

It was the first time in her life where she found where she belonged.

Her hand above the door knob was the hand she wanted to be - brown speckled skin with bracelets of discolored beads - but underneath was the body she was forced in, green and wrinkled and doesn’t belong .

She was a lie. She was lying now; her illusion covered what was really there, what she truly looked like at the moment. When she saw Yeza again, and Luc, she intended to lie to them. Pretend she was normal, for as long as she could. The other option was to turn back now and never return.

She had been lying to the others. The longer she kept them around, the longer her spinning lie will unravel. At the moment, she couldn’t feel more out of place. Everything was wrong and she couldn’t do anything about it.

She was broken from her thoughts when the door knob turned from the other side. Sucking in a harsh breath, Nott scampered away and hid behind the edge of the building just as the door opened.

A figure rushed around, throwing a shawl over their head as they mumbled Halfling to themselves. Nott peered around the corner of the building and watched them put a key in the lock of the apothecary, then scurry down the road at a fast pace. She recalled Edith was just down the path in that direction.

Nott held a hand over her mouth and pressed back against the brick wall. A choked breath escaped her as the rain continued to soak through her clothes. She pounded a weak fist against the brick, anger and grief and self-pity welling inside her.

What am I supposed to do?

Chapter Text

Nott waited outside the apothecary far longer than she intended, trying to gather some courage as she waited for Yeza to return. In the meantime, she found a window at the back and, with her tools, she unhooked the latch and threw the panels open.

She knew the layout of the apothecary well, and knew that the back window would open up to their inventory of stocked potions and ingredients. She knew the shelves that lined the walls and the scent of freshly brewed herbs.

But this was different. It was dark, all the candles having been blown out before Yeza left, but with Nott’s darkvision, she could see that things had changed. There were significantly less shelves than she remembered, and their brewing supplies had actually been moved up from the basement. It was messier, too; empty bottles were overflowing the brewing station to the point where some were tipped over or in a pile on the floor. Leaves and flower blossoms and sourgrass littered the floor, in a way that Nott could tell hadn’t been swept in a long time. As Nott leaned on the windowsill, her fingers came away dusty.

Yeza was a meticulous person. He had a routine, and he did things a certain way. That is to say, he never leaves their apothecary in such a state.

Not unless he felt so overwhelmed that he had to break his routine. Something was hurting her husband.

She debated if she should just sneak in and try to find anything that would tell her what she was looking for, but then she heard the door distantly open. She shut the panels but knelt quietly, watching between the crack for any familiar shapes.

There was a distant murmur as the door shut, and then she heard small feet pound up the stairs. A light went on in the front room, and a moment later, a hunched figure entered the back with matches in his hand. Nott kept a hand over her mouth as she watched her husband, encased in darkness, as he approached the singular candle on the brewery table and lit it.

The first thing she noticed was that he looked tired. Stress lines in his forehead and mouth strained his otherwise youthful reflection. They became parents young and married even younger, but even running a business hadn’t tormented him like this.

He sat down in the chair beside his brewery station and rested his chin in his hand, watching the flickering of the candle with a worn frown. It was only when the low light caught the faint shine that Nott realized with a start that her necklace of buttons - her wedding ring gleaming in the very center - rested on his collarbone. She felt a mix of relief that the package she sent reached them, followed by an almost total despair that her husband was still mourning her.

It was the fact that her illusion was close to expiring that kept her from leaping through the window at that moment. Instead, she sat herself below the window and tucked her knees to her chest, her shoulders shaking in a way that wasn’t due to the rain.

By the time she found herself and stood back up, Yeza was gone and the downstairs was dark.

Her cloak was a sopping mess around her and began to get uncomfortable, so she gave it up and pushed through the rain back to Goldfield.

By the time she slipped inside the inn room, it was dark aside for a single candle on the desk. The bed was occupied by a pile of sleeping bodies, and Nott took a moment to admire it. Caduceus was asleep in between Jester and Caleb, who each had an arm around each other. Beneath them, Yasha and Fjord slept close together, with Fjord resting on Yasha’s shoulder.

At the desk, in an attempt to stay up for Nott, Beau sat with her head on the wood, asleep.

Nott stifled a chuckle. She dropped her illusion and changed out of her wet clothes before gently shaking Beau awake. Beau jumped again, blinking blearily at Nott, before allowing herself to be lead to the bed. Nott tucked her in beside Yasha, who she immediately curled up against.

Nott blew out the candle and, tucking herself into the other empty bed on the far side of the room, kept herself facing the children as she sunk into sleep.

The next day, Nott woke up to Yasha shaking her gently. She looked apologetic as she did so, until Nott was sitting up.

“The little ones are hungry,” She said, in her quiet tone of voice. Wiping the bleariness from her eyes, Nott noticed the other kids were active, while Beau still kept asleep in the other bed.

Nott stiffly stood from the bed and searched for her gold pouch. “I’ll go get us breakfast and bring them up. Keep them quiet until I come back.” Yasha nodded as Nott cast her illusion and stepped out of the room.

She ordered a large breakfast for the kids and as she waited, she thought what she was planning to do. She thought of Yeza and Luc, of their apothecary and wondered how she ever thought she could fit back in place. How she ever thought she could just come back into their lives, fill a hole that might not even be there anymore. At the very least, the hole is a different shape that she can’t hope to fit into anymore.

The food was given to her by an elderly Halfling woman at the same time an idea struck her. She took the tray absently as she thought, and she had committed to it by the time she made it back to the inn room.

Beau was just rising from the bed when Nott reappeared. She passed a plate out to each child, who all sat in a semi-circle between the two beds. Jester was animatedly discussing a dream she had of the Traveler while Caleb, Fjord, and Yasha listened in. Beau sat with her legs crossed on the edge of the bed and picked at her breakfast, while Nott propped Caduceus in her lap and tried to feed him bits of bread and fruit.

“What the plan for today?” Beau asked over the morning conversation. The others quieted down and looked to Nott.

Nott twisted her fingers into the fluffy hair on Caduceus’ head. “I’m going to go talk to the man and see if he can help us.”

“You never actually explained how he’d do that,” Beau said, setting aside her half-finished plate. “My parents are in Kamordah. Bren is from Blumenthal. Yasha is from Xhorhas. Fjord and Jester are from the Coast. Cad is from….somewhere else. We’re not anywhere close to our homes.”

Nott fidgeted in place as the other, younger kids began to catch on that something wasn’t quite right. Yasha and Fjord exchanged a look, questioning but not overly worried. Caleb and Jester appeared the most concerned, Jester latching a hand around Caleb’s as she looked up at Nott.

“We are going home, right?” She asked. “My Mama must miss me so much!” To Nott’s dismay, she saw tears begin to well in Jester’s eyes.

“I need to go home, too,” Caleb said, quietly. “Mama and Papa - they must be looking for me.”

Caduceus babbled something in Giant and bit down on a slice of bread.

Nott stayed silent longer than she should have - Beau’s eyes focused on her and narrowed, as if she could see through her. Finally, Nott cleared her throat. “You will all see your family soon. I promise. Just…give me time. Okay?”

Jester smiled. “Okay!” She seemed satisfied to know that she’ll return home eventually.

Caleb nodded beside her. He appeared convinced, but the idea that he had to wait longer put a damper on his otherwise childish energy.

The others, however, did not look convinced. Like before, there was a distinct lack of concern or worry - like the idea of Nott’s lie didn’t entirely bother them - but Beau fixed Nott with a hard look, a familiar one that she hadn’t seen in days; a look with a challenge.

Nott set Caduceus on the bed and gathered the empty plates into a pile on the tray. Then she approached the door, turning back once to address their group. “I’ll be gone for a little bit. Older kids are in charge. Just, occupy yourselves and we’ll talk more later.” Before any of them could say another word, Nott lifted the hood on her head and fixed her mask in place before slipping out to the hallway.

She darted past Simone and any employees then exited Goldfield, being careful to avoid any eyes until she was back at the apothecary. Instead of reaching for the door, she casually approached the back of the building until she was out of sight.

Letting her hood fall back, she cast another disguise self on her - this time, however, mimicking the appearance of Madame Monteville, the tailor from Alfield. She was around the same height as the gnome woman and while the hood would clip through the image of Monteville’s stringy bun on her head, it was an illusion that would hold for now.

While she was hidden, she practiced disguising her voice. She could make her own voice sound more gravelly and aged - or so she hoped - and that’s what she decided to stick with.

Once she was satisfied, she rounded the corner back to the front of the apothecary. She hesitated, briefly, over the door handle again; but sucked in a breath and twisted the knob. It opened easily, and as she stepped through, a charm above the door announced her arrival.

The front room was empty and just as cluttered as the backroom. It was in slightly better shape, and Nott could tell a broom had been through the room a couple times, but there were still an overwhelming amount of empty bottles and remnants of ingredients, some other brewery tools that should belong in the basement and not on their main floor.

Before Nott could investigate the mess, there was a clatter of objects from the backroom. A moment later, she couldn’t help stifling a gasp as the familiar form of her husband appeared, his stress lines less visible in the daylight but still a feature on his gaunt face. His hair hadn’t had a proper brushing in a while and he appeared pleasantly surprised of her appearance.

“Oh!” Yeza said, settling behind the counter. “Sorry for the wait. What can I do for you?”

Nott let out a slow breath. She was relieved and disappointed that he couldn’t see through her illusion. Clearing her throat, she said in her practiced voice, “Yes, I have a situation I think you may be able to help me with.”

There was a brief pinch in Yeza’s brow when she spoke, but when the request sunk in, he shook himself and nodded. “Of course. What’s your situation?”

“Ah, a group I was with was attacked. By--by witches. They were turned into children. I’ve heard that you had created an antidote for that spell before.”

Yeza hummed and twisted the growing hairs on his chin - which were longer than Nott remembered. “I did, once. It would take me a couple days to prepare it. It’s a bit expensive. I could do it at around…200 gold?”

Nott laid down 300 gold pieces, the last of her own personal gold. “Make it as quick as possible. I haven’t told them what actually happened.”

Yeza blinked at the pile and nodded. “Oh, yes, I’ll get it to you as soon as I can. Uh, can I get a name…?”

“Madame…” Nott coughed again, to stall, then stuttered out, “Nott. The Brave.”

“Madame Nott…The Brave?” Yeza repeated, eyeing Nott over the counter as he wrote it down.

“Y-yep.” Nott watched as Yeza set his pen down and straightened, giving her a quizzical once-over.

“Where are the….children staying?” Yeza asked.

“At Goldfield,” Nott said. “We’ll be there for the next few days.”

“Perfect.” Yeza jotted another note down before smiling, tiredly, at Nott. “I’ll contact you in a couple days when the antidote is done.”

He began gathering a couple empty glass bottles from the counter and stepped towards the back room. Before he could disappear out of sight, Nott called out, “Do you, ah…need help?”

Yeza looked back with another quizzical look. Nott stuttered, “I know a little about alchemy, I might not be much help, but I’d like to give you a hand where you need it….?”

Yeza opened his mouth, but hesitated. He gave Nott another pinched look, then smiled. “Sure. We have a greenhouse on the roof, just give me a second and we’ll go grab what we need.”

As Yeza disappeared into the backroom, Nott gave herself a cheer. Being able to work side by side with her husband again made excitement well inside her. Even if she appeared as someone else, it filled a part of her that she forgot was missing.

The pair of them went up to the greenhouse on the roof of the apothecary, and Nott took a moment to breathe in the smell of herbs and ingredients. A familiar scent where nostalgia hit her like a house.

Yeza handed her a pot of red mushrooms. He picked up a smaller pot of morning dew, and gestured for them to go back downstairs.

As they travelled back through the second floor, just above the store and below the greenhouse roof, they passed a room with yellow walls with building blocks and dolls scattered across the floor. A small bed, fit for a Halfling child, was pressed into the corner with a little dresser at the foot. Nott hesitated, craning her neck to peer into the room and see, maybe, if she can catch a glimpse.

She didn’t notice Yeza stop and stand beside her, but she startled when he spoke. “That’s just my son’s room. He’s at our neighbor’s until this evening, so don’t worry about him getting in our way.”

“I wasn’t--” Nott coughed, her own voice shining through, and hurried past Yeza to the stairs. “I was just curious. Is it….just you?”

Yeza didn’t answer until they were on the first floor, and Nott wondered if she overstepped. Then he cleared his throat, and when she turned to him, he was fingering the button necklace with Nott’s - Veth’s - wedding ring.

“It’s just me and my son, now,” Yeza said, but it was somber. He cleared his throat, offering Nott a subdued smile. “Let’s get to work now, shall we?”

Nott silently followed Yeza to the backroom where the new brewery station was set up. They set the plants down and Yeza handed her a pair of gardening clippers, and they got to work plucking mushrooms and morning dew.

As Nott made a pile of harvested mushrooms, she examined Yeza across the table from her. He was engulfed with work, his hands moving deftly in a way that Nott was intimately familiar with. Up close like this, she saw that he really was thinner than she remembered. His cheekbones stuck out and his eyes appeared more sunken with dark rings around them. Not exactly starved - Nott would hope the gold she’s been sending would be enough for a while, at least - but neglectful. And by the lack of customers, Nott worried about what could causing Yeza to be neglecting himself.

As she was watching him, his eyes flickered up to meet hers. She inhaled sharply, aptly returning her attention to the red mushrooms. He chuckled, a low sound that made Nott secretly smile.

“I know it’s a mess in here,” Yeza said. “I apologize. Things have been…hectic lately.”

“How so?” Nott tried to be inconspicuous as she asked, but she couldn’t help examining the room. The brewery station was a mess, and their inventory had lost its organization long ago. Yeza appeared to have stuck stocked potions wherever they could fit - and there were too many to fit on the shelves. Like he didn’t have the time to make potions per commission.

“Just…” He hesitated, looking around the room as if someone could be listening in. His voice dropped lower as he continued, “I’m doing some work for the Empire. Just a side thing. It takes a lot of time, though.”

Nott’s face pinched as she thought. The idea of her husband working for the Empire - especially knowing about what those people did to Caleb - did not settle well with her. Making sure her growing fear didn’t waver her voice, she said, “Well, maybe you’ll find someone to give you a helping hand.”

Yeza chuckled again, but it was weak. “My son does that for me, now. Where he can. He’s only five.”

“Children can be a handful,” Nott replied, thinking to the ones waiting for her back at Goldfield. “But they can be helpful.”

“Oh, for sure,” Yeza said, and a part of him seemed to have come to life while talking about Luc. “He’s gotten this habit lately of collecting my old broken bottles. When I found out, I made him sand the edges down to be safe, but I let him keep them. You know, his mother used to collect stuff like that, and I can’t just take it away from him.”

Nott couldn’t help her grin. She cleared the wetness from her throat and said, “That--That’s very sweet.”

Yeza smiled at her and it made part of her melt. She just hoped her illusion hid her emotions well enough. “How about your friends? How has it been with them as children?”

Nott laughed, not catching Yeza’s falter in his expression. “It has been a struggle. Beau, the oldest right now, has been the biggest help. But I just learned the baby can’t even speak Common…”

They spent the time in between instructions from Yeza by sharing stories of their kids. Nott could only say the antics her own team has gotten up to in the last week, but she adored hearing stories of Luc she had never heard before. He had grown into such a smart, capable boy, and it made her proud.

Every hour or so, she would find some excuse to leave the room and recast her disguise self, but she could only keep that up for so long. To her luck, a knock came at the door in the early evening.

Yeza had been just grinding up herbs that Nott handed to him when it came, and he visibly stiffened. He mumbled to himself what sounded like, “Is it that time already…?” before hastily shoving the brewery supplies aside.

“I’m sorry Madame Nott, The Brave,” Yeza said, his lip quirking at the name. “I have to ask you to leave for the night. I’m expecting a visitor.”

A pang of fear - the Empire - and jealousy - who is it? - struck her, but she nodded amiably. “That’s alright. If you don’t mind, who is it?”

Yeza took a hand to her back and lead her to the door in a rush. “It’s, uh, classified, I’m sorry.”

“Of course,” Nott said, not allowing her bitter feelings to rise in her voice. “I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Yeza said, offering a tired smile, and the last of the color seemed to have drained from him as he opened the door.

Outside stood a tall elven woman, with sharp eyes and a pinch frown, looking down between Yeza and Nott with impassive disdain.

“Sorry, Lady DeRogna, she was just leaving,” Yeza said, nervousness making his voice shake. “Goodbye, Madame.”

Nott half-waved to Yeza, eyeing the elven woman with a suspicious stare. The Lady’s expression did not change and didn’t stop watching her until Yeza closed the door behind them.

Nott watched the closed door and bit her lip, fighting back the urge to sneak in through the back window and watch what went down behind it. With a huff, she turned back and hurried to the inn.

Lady DeRogna didn’t ring a bell, but if she was part of the inner circle of the Empire, then Caleb might know who she was.

It is just unfortunate that he is currently five years old.

Huffing in frustration, Nott rushed through the doors of Goldfield and brushed past Simone, who barely spared her a glance. She was so lost in thought that she didn’t realize something was amiss in their room until she noticed the kids gathered on one of the beds and the distinct feeling that she was interrupting something.

Caduceus was the only one who looked happy, cradled protectively on Yasha’s lap like her doll. Jester and Caleb clung to each other, sharing looks of uncertainty. The other three - and this is where Nott paused and knew something had happened - were watching her with mistrust, on either side of the younger three protectively.

Beau, wordlessly, held up Jester’s old journal, from before they were transformed. On the page was a portrait of the Mighty Nein, each member in all their proud glory, with an uncanny resemblance to all the kids sitting around it.

Dropping her disguise, Nott muttered, “ Fuck .”

Chapter Text

“What is this?”

Beau held up the journal accusingly. Yasha clasped Caduceus against her, who looked entirely clueless and happy as can be despite the situation, as Fjord leaned against Beau and glanced at her, mimicking her hard expression.

Jester looked at them, to Nott, and back. Her lip stuck out. “Why are we mad, you guys? I think the pictures are really, really cool.” Caleb nodded, to further prove her point.

“That’s not the point,” Beau snapped. Her hard demeanor faltered when Jester flinched, but she turned her glare towards Nott, instead. “The point is that Nott lied to us.”

Nott bit her lip. Carefully, she stepped closer to the bed. “I’ll explain, it’s probably about time you knew anyway.”

Silently, she crawled up on the bed in the circle of kids and gently took the journal from Beau’s hands. She pointed to the portrait of a woman with an undercut, wearing cobalt vestiges and a long staff in her hand. “That is my friend Beauregard. She is a badass monk who is very smart and kind. Also she can punch ghosts.”

Beau’s glare vanished into a vague sense of wonder, and her fingers traced the long braids hanging over her shoulders. She wasn’t entirely convinced, but she was listening.

Nott pointed to the tall, barbarian woman. “That is Yasha. She is strong and powerful, but she also puts flowers in books and lets me braid flowers in her hair.”

Yasha’s defensive pose relaxed, and she softened, cuddling Caduceus close to her chest.

“And this--” Nott gestured to the half-orc. “This is Fjord. He talks to a weird eye god and can summon a sword, but he’s also our captain. Namely, Captain Tusktooth.”

Fjord held a hand over his mouth and his eyes widened, staring at his portrait in disbelief. Thankfully, Jester had drawn his tusks in full instead of the stubs they used to be.

Nott watched Caduceus play with Yasha’s thumbs with clueless joy. She chuckled as she pointed to his portrait. “This is Deucy. He’s a weird a guy that makes dead people tea, but he’s also really nice and thoughtful.”

Caduceus babbled in Giant, but none of it seemed coherent to Nott.

She gestured next to the blue tiefling in the corner. “That’s you, Jester. A pretty tiefling just like your mother. You’ve helped us get back on our feet many, many times.”

Jester grinned and giggled, pulling on Caleb’s arm excitedly. “I’m so pretty you guys!”

Finally, Nott pointed to the final figure, a tall human man with a cat draped across his shoulders. “This is my best friend, Caleb. He’s a very smart wizard and the brave leader of our group.” She looked up to Caleb, who had his head cocked at her. “That would be who you grow up to be, Bren.”

Instead of arguing about his name, Caleb grinned shyly and hid his face against Jester’s shoulder. He pointed a finger to the cat. “Frumpkin?”

Nott couldn’t help a startled laugh. Of course it was a name he picked out when he was a kid. “Yes, it is.”

The anger that had been building in the room since Nott arrived had dissipated, but Beau still straightened her shoulders and crossed her arms. “You still haven’t explained how it’s possible.”

Nott sighed. She laid the picture down in between them. “It’s kind of a long story. See, these witches had cursed you all to turn into children. Your memories went with it.” She paused, contemplating. “I guess it wasn’t a long story.”

“So, we’re actually like this?” Fjord put a hand on the picture.

Nott nodded. “Exactly like that.”

Fjord grinned. He seemed relieved to hear that answer.

“All those stories,” Yasha murmured. “Were about us?”

“Every detail,” Nott answered. “We’re the Mighty Nein.”

There was a moment of shared excitement between them, glancing between each other with looks of relief and happiness. Then Caleb lifted a finger and pointed to each of them, murmuring to himself.

“But there’s only seven of us,” He said.

Nott laughed, a genuine sound that came from the relief at releasing this burden of a secret. “It’s ironic.” She paused, wiping the corner of her eyes. “Also it can be Zemnian. However you wanna look at it.” Caleb appeared more excited at the mention of Zemnian.

Beau still wasn’t finished with her question. Coughing to draw everyone’s attention again, she asked, “So, your story about saving us from goblins…?”

“Oh, yeah. I lied.” Nott had the decency to sheepishly hunch in on herself. “I didn’t actually save you from goblins. I just had to come up with an excuse for you to trust me.” She looked down at her hands and grew more somber. “I’m…not actually in disguise, either. I’m a goblin. But I wasn’t always.” She shook her head. “Now that’s a long story that I won’t get into yet. I will say that I used to be a Halfling, and these goblins who tormented us turned me into one of them against my will. The, uh. The man we’re meeting with. He was my husband. He’s the smartest chemist in Felderwin, and he can reverse this curse put on you in a couple days!” The last few words were meshed together in a rush as Nott explained, feeling flustered and put on the spot.

“That’s really sad,” Jester said after a pause.

“It’s been better with you guys,” Nott said, voice small and genuine.

“Have you told your husband?” Yasha asked.

“Not yet.” Nott’s voice was hushed. “I want to. I think.”

Beau slapped a hand on Nott’s shoulder, startling her. Beau’s grin was wide and bright. “We’ll help you. Like you’ve helped us.”

The rest of them nodded, even Caduceus babbled something that might have been encouraging. Nott laughed again, wetly, and pulled them close.

When the next day comes, Nott once again has that feeling in her gut; the churning of dread and fear. Contrast to her, the kids were excited. It seemed the news of their true identities wasn’t entirely catastrophic - instead, the kids appeared more confident in themselves.

Beau took charge of the morning and helped the little ones dress while Nott fed them all, and their morning routine was over faster than Nott expected. Her hands were a little sweaty as she prepared to cast her disguise self again.

The part of her that was Veth ached to see Yeza again. Neither Veth or Nott were very smart, but she was smart enough to know that she still loved him, especially after yesterday. Two years apart could not erase the many years of their marriage.

The part of her that was Nott was frightened. ‘Nott the Brave’ was a statement, not a title, and it meant that she wasn’t brave enough to face her past alone.

The kids watched her, expectantly, waiting for the signal to leave. Yasha had Caduceus on her hip and Fjord held Jester’s hand while Beau held Caleb’s. Their eyes were determined and for a moment, Nott felt like she had her team back. A new thought came to mind: maybe she wasn’t alone, after all.

When she was once again Madame Nott the Brave, she lead her gaggle of kids through Goldfield and through town. Once they reached Brenatto Apothecary , Nott hesitated again outside of the doors. That feeling of dread and fear once again coursed through her and she itched to reach for her flask even if it would disrupt her illusion.

Another thought struck her: it had been days since she drank from her flask. Huh.

(Veth didn’t shy away from a drink, but Nott was the borderline alcoholic, and they both knew this--)

A hand settled on her shoulder and Nott looked to her left to find Beau, a smile of encouragement aimed her way. Beau was never known for her pretty smiles as an adult, but as a child it seemed to come easier to her. To her right, Fjord grinned at her crookedly, the whites of his tusks more endearing than it should be.

Taking a deep breath, Nott pushed forward. Her hand closed around the door handles and the Mighty Nein entered the apothecary.

Yeza wasn’t at the counter right away, and Nott heard some clatter at the back and some mumbled Halfling that she couldn’t decipher from this distance. What was different, though, was the small patter of feet as a little Halfling boy peered around the doorway.

Nott sucked in a breath. Luc had changed so much since she had last seen him. He was a healthy weight, no longer the frail boy she remembered, and his hair was long and shaggy, almost in his eyes, like Yeza didn’t have the time to give him a haircut. But his eyes; Nott would know her boy’s bright blue eyes from anywhere.

He was there for a moment and then gone the next, ducking back behind the door way, undoubtedly startled by these strangers. (She swallowed that last term bitterly.)

They did not wait long until Yeza came back around the corner, wiping stains on his hands off on his apron that may have last seen a good cleaning when Veth was still living here. He brightened when he saw Nott, and a little piece of her wished it was for what was underneath the illusion.

“Madame, you’re back,” He greeted, and then spotted the children. “Oh, hello. I’m Mr. Brenatto. Who are you all?”

Jester piped up first. “I’m Jester!” She tugged on Fjord’s hand and looked up at him.

“Fjord,” He said, smiling back down at Jester.

Beau tugged on Caleb’s hand. Looking shy, he said, “Bren.”

“I’m Beau,” She added.

“Yasha,” Yasha finished. She held up Caduceus’ hand in a wave. “This is Caduceus.” Caduceus babbled something that might have been Giant or just toddler speak.

Luc appeared again, hiding behind his father’s legs. Yeza pat him on the shoulder. “It’s lovely to meet you. This is my son, Luc. Why don’t you say hi?”

Luc hesitantly lifted a hand to wave at them. Nott waved back, but she couldn’t help the concern nibbling at the back of her mind. Her boy was never so shy. Luc was always excited to meet other kids, and it was a struggle reinforcing the dangers of talking to strange adults passing through town.

This boy was wary of new people. This boy had a sense of self-preservation that she always wished he had, but for some reason, her heart ached.

(They both knew why.)

“I usually drop him off at Edith’s, but I think he’d enjoy showing the kids his collections, right?” Yeza asked Luc, who only looked up at his father warily. Yeza frowned. “Or stay down here with us. Your pencils are around here somewhere...” He knelt behind the counter and rummaged through whatever contents lay back there now until he set a box of colored pencils on the surface.

“I have paint!” Jester added, bouncing in place. She tugged on Nott’s hand. “Nott, Nott, Nott! Can I show Luc my drawings?”

“Of course.” Nott rummaged through the pink haversack and gave her the loose papers of Jester’s art skills. In addition, she readied her paint supplies and the other toys she packed before they left.

Jester, with no inhibition to meet other kids, immediately approached Luc and showed him all her drawings, explaining in detail each vaguely shaped color blob. Luc, at first surprised by Jester’s approach, began nodding along as Jester continued to ramble. Nott couldn’t help smiling at the sight.

“Good, good,” Yeza said, and Nott was pleased to see him smiling again. “We can get started, I’m sure the kids will occupy themselves.”

Yeza picked up a few empty bottles on the edge of the counter and disappeared into the back. It was then that Nott noticed the place was more cleaned up than the last time she was there; the floor had been swept and the trash had been collected. A little bit of hope lifted her spirits.

Beau tugged her hand. “I’ll keep them out here,” She said, almost a whisper. “Talk to him.”

Nott nodded, the sudden reminder of revealing herself putting a damper on her good spirits. She straightened her back, squeezed Beau’s hand, and then marched to the back room.

Yeza was gathering jars of scorpion tails on the worktable and grinned at her as Nott walked in. The worktable had two cutting boards and two knives prepared.

“All we’re doing today is cutting along the beads of the tail, Madame--” Yeza’s lips quirked as he spoke, “--Nott the Brave.” He chopped up the scorpion tail to show Nott, as if she hadn’t done the same thing dozens of times before.

Nott took her place at the second cutting board and did the same thing, cutting along the tail of the scorpion until it was in a small pile. She looked up to find Yeza grinning, as if proud, and Nott felt warm.

They worked their way through a jar of tails almost in silence, listening to the sounds of children playing in the other room. To Nott’s surprise, about an hour into their work (and one excuse where Nott went to check in on the kids and recast her disguise) Luc quietly came into the room and tugged on Yeza’s pant leg.

“Can I show them the beehive?” Luc asked, his voice oddly quiet.

“Sure thing, just tell them the ground rules,” Yeza said, kissing the top of Luc’s head as he ran back out of the room. A moment later, they heard a stampede of tiny feet going upstairs.

“The beehive?” Nott asked once it was quiet again.

“Yeah, Luc spotted a hive up in the greenhouse once,” Yeza explained. “I smoked the bees out and killed them with a quick potion, and I let Luc keep the hive. He’s pretty proud of it.”

“He looks it,” Nott said, but she couldn’t help seeing how shy he is. “He’s a quiet kid.”

Yeza frowned. “Yeah. We’ve been through a lot.” He looked back up at her, watching her, a strange look in his eye. Then he shook his head and looked back down. “It’s been tough, recovering, but we’re making do.”

Nott couldn’t help the guilt weighing in her chest. She ran away while her family had to recover alone, while Yeza had to pull it together in order to take care of their son. It’s no wonder that the house is in such disarray when he has to do everything alone.

Maybe Yeza noticed the change in her mood, or she stalled on their task. Either way, he rounded the worktable and leaned against it, giving Nott a tired half-smile. “We have been doing alright, though. Luc still has some issues to work through, but he doesn’t have nearly as many nightmares. Edith has been a huge help. It’s not easy, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Nott nodded, but she was stuck on ‘nightmares’ and ‘not easy’. Her boy had nightmares and she wasn’t there to comfort him. Her husband had to take on everything himself - her husband had to fill in the empty spaces she left behind.

Yeza placed a hand on her shoulder and wasn’t fazed when his hand passed through the illusion. Nott didn’t notice. He held up a small piece of paper and Nott only took it because she didn’t know what else to do.

She read the paper. Her eyes widened, she looked back up. Yeza’s eyes held no judgement or hatred or anger. Just love.

Written on the paper was this:

NOTT THE BRAVE

VETH BRENATTO

Chapter Text

NOTT THE BRAVE

VETH BRENATTO

The piece of paper reminded her she had not been speaking in her ‘old Madame’ voice at all during this visit. And Yeza didn’t point it out, didn’t give any indication he knew. He was waiting for her to do it. 

The next breath she pulled in was almost a sob. Yeza waited, arms at his sides, not yet making a move or saying anything. Nott couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. 

“I--” She glanced toward the stairs, silent since the rumble of steps that climbed them earlier. Taking a breath, she said in a small voice, “Yeza…I’m sorry.” 

“Oh! No no no, don’t apologize, dear,” Yeza said, using the moment to step closer but not yet touch. “Whatever your reasons, I’m sure I’ll understand.” 

His unwavering optimism nearly hurt her. Her hands wrung together and she remembered she was still under her illusion. She clenched her hands at her sides. “I, um. It’s not a great reason.” She paused, and Yeza waited patiently as she figured out her thoughts. “I don’t look like how I used to. I mean - I don’t look like this.” She gestured to her current face, stolen from a shopkeep from a town a few days back. “But I don’t look like ‘me’, either. The old me.” 

Yeza took another step closer, examining her face as if trying to see through the illusion. “Did the goblins do something to you?”

Nott nodded, and she couldn’t get another word out before she was tearing up. A hand slapped over her mouth as a sob tried to bubble up but she choked it back. She nodded; Yeza didn’t hesitate this time to slide an arm around her shoulders and pull her close. She didn’t resist him, either, even though she was sure he could feel her rough skin, her long ears, her thin, stick-like hair. He still held her even though she felt nothing like her old plush self, or even the shopkeep she was currently wearing the face of. Nott pressed a tentative hand to his chest. If she was rejected once the illusion fell, then she had to savor this last embrace. 

“I don’t look like who I used to be,” Nott said once her sniffling died down, muffled by the collar of Yeza’s button-up. Yeza’s hand ran soothingly down her back, through thin hair that wasn’t seen through the illusion. 

“But sweetheart,” Yeza said, and oh how she missed the names he doted on her with. “It’s still you under it all, right?” He wasn’t the best at phrasing his thoughts, only marginally better at writing them out, but she still always understood his meaning, and now wasn’t an exception. 

Nott nodded, reeling back to look him in the eye. His eyes were sincere and she hoped it would stay that way. “It is. It’s me.” 

Yeza smiled, and it was radiant like she always thought it was. “I want to see. And no matter what, I’m here for you.” He gripped her hands as if to prove it, and she could feel his own wedding ring, the one he never took off, pressed against her fingers. 

“Okay. Okay.” She repeated it to herself, encouraging herself to go through with it. She squeezed his hands, then squeezed his eyes shut, and - with a deep, sucking breath - dropped the illusion. 

She heard his sharp inhale, but she kept her eyes shut, waiting for him to process. When the silence loomed and the waiting became unbearable, Nott finally opened her eyes, bracing herself for - anything, really.

His expression was unreadable but it could be worse. She tried to convince herself of that, at least. She definitely didn’t let the anxiety creep up on her and make her think there’s disgust in those bright blue eyes of his that wouldn’t stop staring at her undoubtedly horrific face. 

The urge to run away almost overwhelmed her when he suddenly tugged her into a hug. A shaking hot breath fanned against her neck and his fingers dug into her sides, a man realizing, truly, that his wife is back from the dead. Hopefully for good. 

“I see it,” He whispered, lips ghosting under the shell of her ear. “I see you in there, even if you don’t look like it at first. It is you. It’s really you.” 

He stopped his own rambling to press kiss after kiss along her neck, one hand gently cradling the back of her head, the other slung around her waist in a tight grip. Nott couldn’t help a laugh bubble up from inside her. Her hands slid across her husband’s back as he kissed down her neck, not heated, not passionate, but quick, relieved, love-filled marks. For a moment, she could believe that things were completely back to normal. That she was Veth and he was her husband and they were a perfect little family known only for their quirky habits and not the tragedies. 

Even when he pulled back to gaze at her, eyes soft and sparkling, the same way he looked at her at their wedding, the same way he looked at her every night, every morning, and the day after. The illusion still held - and maybe it wasn’t an illusion, not really. 

(Maybe, maybe, Nott and Veth were one and the same.)

Then a knock came at the door. 

Yeza broke away reluctantly. His hands hovered at her hips, and he pressed another delicate kiss to the corner of her mouth, before finally pulling away. Nott was tempted to chase after his touch, but thought better of it. Instead, she donned her usual illusion and followed him to the front of the shop. 

Yeza pulled back the curtain on one of the front windows and peered outside. He yanked back hard after a short second. “Shoot, shoot, shoot shoot--” 

“Who is it?” Nott tried to get a glance out the window but Yeza took her arm. 

“Lady DeRogna,” Yeza said in a hush as another knock shook the door. “Can you go upstairs? Just until I get this over with. Don’t let any of the kids come down. We can talk more about this later.” 

Nott nodded and quickly hurried up the steps. She stopped halfway up, crouched behind the railing, and listened. 

“...Ah, Lady DeRogna, come in,” Yeza said, nerves shaking his voice. “I--How are you? I’ve just been--”

“Has there been progress?” The Zemnian accent was hard to miss. 

“Oh, uh. Yes! The Beacon appeared to respond to my tests last time, so I’ve written a hypothesis…” 

By that point, their conversation muffled as they moved to the basement. Nott debated following them down into the basement, but then she heard a thud from upstairs. Smiling fondly, she followed the sound. 

Luc’s bedroom door was cracked open. Silently, she peered in. Yasha and Caleb were quietly using up the art supplies that Jester had left unattended. Caduceus was between them chewing on a pencil, but seemed engrossed in proceedings across the room. From her position, Nott could see there were several works of art already scattered across the floor boards. Standing on Luc’s bed, Nott saw Beau with Jester on her shoulders, her arms filled with crumpled up paper balls. Facing them was Fjord with Luc on his shoulders, who appeared to be struggling but refused to admit so. Luc was waving a wooden sword. Nott softened at the look of pure childish glee on his face. 

“You will pear-ish , foul fiends!” Luc said with a triumphant wave of his sword. 

“You can’t kill us!” Jester shouted. “We’re the Mighty Nein! ” With that, she pitched a paper ball at him with surprising accuracy. 

Even more impressive, Luc deflected the attack with his sword. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m--I’m the--, uh…” 

Fjord leaned up to whisper something to him. Luc grinned. 

“I’m Luc the Brave!” He shouted, and swung his sword through the air. 

Nott backed away from the door or else she would’ve burst in and scooped Luc into the biggest hug. 

She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and with a wave of her hand, she became Madame Nott the Brave once again. She knocked gently at the door before pushing it open and stepping inside. 

Jester waved as she entered, dropping half of her paper ammunition. Beau flinched as one hit her nose. Luc’s glee immediately disappeared as he clutched his sword to his chest, unsure how to act in front of her. It made her heart hurt. 

“Hey, guys,” Nott greeted, being careful to disguise her voice this time. “Are you having fun?”

“Yeah!” Jester shouted. “We’re the Mighty Nein, and we’re defeating the evil Luc the Brave!” 

“ I’m not evil,” Luc argued stubbornly. “ You’re evil!”

Before this could explode into a childish argument, Nott intercepted. “Actually, I was thinking we could play another game. How about hide and seek?”

Luc brightened. “I’m really good at that game!” 

Nott smiled. “Are you now? We’ll just have to see.” 

It took some wrangeling and a minor fight, but Nott got the kids to agree that she and Caduceus will be ‘It’. She laid out some ground rules, such as no going downstairs, since Yeza was ‘busy with a client’, as she explained to the others. At that point, she found a corner in Luc’s bedroom with Caduceus on her lap and began counting. 

In all honesty, she didn’t really count. She busied Caduceus by talking to him in Common, even though he never quite understood her. 

“You grow up to be a really creepy dude, Caduceus,” Nott told him. “But also a reliable cleric, so I won’t complain.” 

Caduceus babbled and Nott nodded like she understood. 

“Oh yes, I’m sure the Wildmother is looking after you, too,” Nott replied. “You know, I think Mollymauk would have had a fun time getting to know you.” 

She could only imagine the amount of his innuendos that would go directly over Caduceus’ head. Molly would have a field day. 

Caduceus said something that Nott thought sounded like agreement. 

“Thanks for reminding me, Duecy,” She said. “It’s time to go find the other kids.”

She hefted him up on one hip and stood up from the corner. The upstairs level was silent, aside from occasional creaking in the old floorboards. Quietly as she could with a baby on her hip, Nott crept through the house. 

She knew from the sound of shuffling earlier that someone was under Luc’s bed. She let them hide for a bit, even as they giggled as she passed by. 

There were only two other rooms on the floor. Instinctively, she headed to the room directly across from Luc’s. 

It was a storage room. No plants or potion products; just extra aprons, shoes, clothes that they don’t wear this season. Hidden behind the coats hung up on a wooden bar, Nott spotted a pair of yellow eyes. 

“Found you,” She said. 

Fjord pushed past the coats and out of the closet, giving Nott a grin. “I know where Beau is.” 

Nott shushed him. Just as she was about to close the closet, her eye caught something and she paused. On the shelf above the coat rack was a series of paper boxes. Written on the one at the very top was the rushed scrawl of Veth . 

She fought the urge to pull that box down and dig through its contents. She can do that later. 

Instead, she closed it and went to the next room. 

It was Yeza’s bedroom. Fjord lingered in the hallway with a grin, telling her that she had the right place. The room was more cluttered than she remembered, with piles of clothes and aprons tossed on the floor and across the dresser. The bed was made, however, and the side she claimed years ago was untouched. On Yeza’s side, a bedside table had an illustrated picture of their tiny family framed and propped up for the room to see. 

Again, some shuffling under the bed. This time, Nott dropped Caduceus down to look under it. He giggled, reaching for whoever it was. 

“Found you,” Nott said with a fond smile. 

Yasha crawled out from under the bed. She pointed an accusatory finger at Caduceus. 

“I trusted you,” She said, deadpan. 

Caduceus grabbed her finger and shook it gleefully. 

“Alright, go wait with Fjord,” Nott said, patting Yasha on the shoulder. 

As she left, Nott looked around. There wasn’t many other places to hide in here. She was about to turn and leave when she caught sight of the chair in the corner. It was nearly hidden under an apron draped across it, with piles of clothes stacked on either side - appearing very intentional. 

Outloud, she said to the room, “Oh, I do believe Yeza asked me to retrieve another apron for him. Now just where would I find one…” 

She approached the chair slowly, waiting to see if Beau would show herself. When she didn’t, Nott gripped the edge of the apron and yanked it out of place. 

Kneeling behind the chair, Beau scowled. 

“It was a good spot too,” She grumbled. 

“You can try again next time,” Nott said. “So, where to next, Duecy?” 

Caduceus babbled something while trying to pull at the strings at the throat of Nott’s dress. As it was part of the illusion, his hand didn’t grab hold of anything. 

“Good idea,” Nott replied. “Back to the bedroom.” 

With the three older kids lingering in the hallway, Nott crossed the threshold into Luc’s room. He just caught a flash of blue tail as it hurried back under the bed. 

“Ready, Cad?” Nott asked. 

She placed him on his hands and knees on the ground, facing the bed. She made sure he caught sight of the ones under Luc’s bed before she released him with a, “Go get them!” 

Caduceus crawled across the floor and disappeared under the bed, just as a betrayed shout rang out, “ Ca-deuces! ” 

He appeared again with a pouting Jester just behind him. Nott scooped up Caduceus as Jester leaned against her side. 

“Bren’s in the dresser drawer,” Jester muttered. 

An indignant cry came from the dresser. With some effort, the bottom (and biggest) drawer was kicked open, and Caleb’s head poked out with a pout. 

“Jester!” He said, betrayed. 

“You left me alone under there!” Jester argued, pointing to the bed. 

“So?” 

“So it was scary!” 

“Okay, okay,” Nott said, attempting to keep the peace. “Any idea where Luc is?” 

Jester and Caleb shrugged. Glancing to the hall, the older kids didn’t offer an answer. 

Nott tried not to let panic rise up in her. Tried not to think about the last time she didn’t know where Luc went. She didn’t remember hearing anyone walk downstairs, but she’s been distracted by everyone else. 

“He’s not under the bed,” Jester said. 

“You just came from under there,” Fjord told her with a cocked head. 

“I know! That’s how I know he’s not under there!” 

“Obviously, or you would’ve said something.” 

Nott let out a long sigh. She was about to quiet the kids when she noticed Caduceus was oddly silent. His head was tipped back to stare at the ceiling, his long ears twitching as if he heard something. 

Nott smiled. “There’s only one other place he can be.” 

She headed out of the room and down to the end of the hall where the retractable ladder was located. The hatch at the top was closed, but she had the feeling that it had been opened recently. 

“Stay here,” She instructed to the kids, and climbed. 

It was a little more difficult with a baby on her hip, but she had done this enough times with Luc before. She threw up the hatch to the roof of the apothecary, where the sun was shining with a rare clear sky. The greenhouse was a small building right beside the hatch, and the front door was propped open with a rock, one that she recognized. It was a heavy stone that Luc had painted when he was around two, and Yeza carried it up the ladder to use it up in the greenhouse. It served its intended purpose as a door stopper. 

Inside was humid. The walls were made of glass and lined with dozens of healthy greenery. She remembered when they built it; the delicate process of assembling all the panes of glass into wooden frames. She and Yeza had spent days on it, despite Yeza’s insistence that she take bedrest instead; she had been pregnant at the time. That didn’t stop her from supervising her husband around potential shards of glass. 

(They only had to re-order four panes.)

She ran her fingers through the pot of sourgrass and inhaled their scent. Identical to Nila’s bag of scents. She chose not to question how that was possible. 

Caduceus reached for the hanging leaves of a small tree. Nott was almost sure that the branch leaned down to meet his touch, but she couldn’t be sure. He felt the leaf with an awed expression on his face. Nott smiled fondly. 

Then he grabbed it and attempted to bite it. She pulled him away from the plants quickly after that. 

A shuffling caught her attention. Pushing past the hanging branches and towering plants, she caught a small body hidden among them. Luc giggled as Nott’s gaze fell on him. He had a hand over his mouth but his grin could be seek in the crinkles of his eyes. His shaggy hair did nothing to hide the blue of his eyes, which stood out so much clearer among the green. In this light, she saw his freckles were coming out. 

My handsome son , she thought. Her heart sang with love. 

“Hello, Luc,” She said quietly. 

“You found me!” He said. He pranced past the pots with practiced ease, coming to a stop at her feet. His grin beamed up at her. 

She couldn’t help herself. Nott fell to her knees and took Luc into a tight hug. He stiffened but didn’t try to pull away. Her one unoccupied arm looped around his waist as she buried her face in his neck. If her breath hitched, it went unheard. 

When she pulled away, Luc had a complicated, unreadable expression on his face. Nott subtly wiped her eyes and smiled. 

“Congrats, Luc. You won the game,” She said with weak cheer. 

Luc kept staring at her with an oddly pinched expression. It was so like Yeza, when he concentrated on a particularly tricky potion. 

Clearing her throat, she turned to Caduceus. “Let’s get back downstairs, yeah?” 

When she and Luc climbed back down the ladder, the older kids were sitting around Luc’s room, having gone back to their games and toys. Despite the odd moment up in the greenhouse, Luc was quick to go back to playing with the other kids. As they continued on their play, Nott noticed that night had properly set and Yeza was still busy with DeRogna. 

With some careful steps, Nott hurried downstairs and raided the kitchen. It was just as empty as she expected it to be, but at least there was enough to pull seven meals together. She did what she could with bread, slices of meat, and chopped vegetables. She carried it all upstairs, but stopped just in front of the basement steps. 

There wasn’t much she could hear without risking getting closer. But she could pick up the distant sound of tools, some metal clanging, and what was probably DeRogna’s strict instructions or critiques. Quickly, Nott hurried back upstairs. 

The kids ate quickly and went back to their play. Nott settled herself with Caduceus and tried to keep herself busy, but her eyes kept darting to the stairs. She hoped that DeRogna wouldn’t do anything to her husband. They had so much to talk about. 

Sometime during that night, she caught Luc. 

“Does it always take your father this long to talk to his client?” Nott said, carefully choosing her words. 

Luc frowned. “Yeah. When the scary lady comes around, she sometimes keeps dad all night.” 

Nott did not like the sound of that. “Do you know why?”

Luc shrugged. She let him go with a sigh. 

As it turned out, DeRogna did keep Yeza late into the night. 

When the kids ran out of energy, Nott did her best to set up beds. Luc was kind enough to share his bed with Caleb, but the young human boy took up what little was left of the bed (and as Nott looked at them, tucked up together, she wondered how she ever though they were identical. Caleb was bigger, his hair chopped neatly, while Luc had the small frame of a Halfling and haven’t seen a pair of scissors in a few months). She dug around for extra blankets and pillows. Somewhat similar to their nights cuddled up in the bubble, the other kids tucked up against each other on the floor of Luc’s bedroom. Jester was in the middle, with Beau curled up behind her. Fjord and Yasha leaned against each other. 

Nott wished them goodnight and blew out the candles. With Caduceus on her hip, she shut the door and headed across the hall. She was barely to the master bedroom before she heard hushed giggling from the bedroom. Oh well, let the kids have their fun. 

She set Caduceus on the bed but hesitated before crawling in. Sure, Veth was welcome on her side of the bed, but she didn’t know if Nott was. After a conflicting moment, Nott gave in to search for more blankets. 

She made another makeshift sleeping roll beside the bed. Caduceus curled up beside her, content with curling up on a single pillow. Her mind wandered to the box back in the closet, but this was her husband’s house. She didn’t want to cross where she wasn’t wanted. 

With the candles blown out, and Caduceus sleeping peacefully beside her, Nott drifted off.