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Nott had been sat at the bar for an hour or so, drinking with the intention of getting too drunk to think, but she hadn’t been able to block out everything. In her drunken exhaustion she had seen each of the Mighty Nein retire to one of the rooms they had purchased, all bar one. She had not seen Beauregard since they arrived in the inn, and Nott knew that wasn’t a good sign.
After some searching, Nott found her sitting on a bench out the back of the inn, overlooking a small garden where vegetables were growing. Badly, Nott thought; Caduceus would be appalled at the terrible growing etiquette.
Nott approached Beau slowly. Upon getting a better look, Nott noticed that the woman wasn’t meditating, and so she deemed it appropriate to speak.
“So,” Said Nott. “Yasha’s back.”
Beau grunted in response.
For a moment, Nott considered not continuing with her line of conversation, but the way Beau had removed herself from the situation,walked off and secluded herself away from everyone else? Nott knew Beau had a confidant in Caleb, but that was always in regard to the empire, to books, to personality. But to romanceand feelings, Beau had confided in Nott.
And so now that Yasha was back, and Nott having been the one who Oban had tried to take in replacement of Yasha, Nott knew it was her who had to speak to Beau.
“Weird, right?” Said Nott.
Beau grunted again.
“Weird for you,” Nott pressed. “Considering before.”
This time, Beau did not answer, and Nott couldn’t even hear her breathe. The only sound was that of snoring from some of the rooms above the tavern, and the occasional clink of glasses from the solitary patrons inside.
Nott took a breath, and stepped into beau’s line of sight. “I was just wondering-“
“If this is about what I told you, about… about our conversation, I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“You sure?” Asked Nott.
“Yeah.”
“Well I’m not.” Nott hauled herself up onto the bench beside Beauregard, purposefully nudging her as she shifted into the seat. Beau huffed, but let the goblin continue.
“You told me you liked Jester,” Said Nott. “And now Yasha’s back, I was wondering if it was juststill Jester you liked.” She paused. When Beau didn’t say anything, Nott added, “because I know you always liked Yasha.”
For nearly a minute, Beau said nothing, and Nott, for once, didn’t want to provoke a negative reaction from the monk and so kept quiet, waiting.
Eventually, Beau sighed. “She was gone,” Said Beau. “And I didn’t think she would ever come back to m-uh… to us.”
To me, Nott finished in her head. Beau had wanted to say to me. Nott hadn’t realised how deeply Beau had felt for Yasha. Everyone had known there was a crush there, as obvious as it was Jester’s crush on Fjord. But Nott hadn’t known how serious Beau’s ‘crush’ on Yasha had been; Nott’s own selfishness that had prohibited her from seeing it. But Nott was making a concerted effort to be lessselfish.
“She needs us,” Said Nott. And then, with a courage and kindness Nott had long believed she no longer possessed, she placed a hand on Beau’s arm; “she needs you.”
“She doesn’t,” Said Beau.
“She does,” Said Nott. “Before she, y’know, was Oban-ed, you two were close. She spoke to you about her shit. And now she’s back, she needs you to listen to her shit again.”
“I don’t think I can,” Said Beau, and her voice was so quiet, so timid,that Nott almost didn’t believe it was Beauregard speaking.
“Because of your feelings for Jester?” Asked Nott.
Beau shoved Nott’s hand from her arms and crossed them, fists clenched and biceps tensed painfully.
“It’s not impossible, y’know,” Said Nott. “To feel things for more than one person.” Beau kept her head down, but some of the tightness in her muscles relaxed slightly. So Nott continued. “It’s common. When you’re separated from one person you like, when you think they’re gone for good, or…” Nott swallowed. “When you think youare gone for good…” Beau looked up, and there was a flash of something soft in the monk’s eyes, of recognition to their prior conversation, about Nott’s feelings. But this wasn’t about Nott. This was about Beau. She glared her throat, dramatically as always. “When you think they’re gone, you start to look elsewhere because you don’t want to be alone. No matter how much it hurts to lose people, you don’t want to spend the rest of your life alone.”
That’s what you did, Nott wanted to say. You thought you’d lost happiness with Yasha, and so you found it with Jester.
But now Yasha was back.
“You’re in a fortunate place, though,” added Beau.
“How?” Asked Beau. Her voice was rough, but she didn’t bother to clear her throat.
“Neither of them knows,” Said Nott. “So you can make up your mind without hurting anyone.”
You’re not married to one of them, Nott thought, and when she looked at Beau and their eyes locked, Nott could only hope Beau understood what she hadn’t said.
Beau’s eyes clouded over with something, and she nodded. She had understood.
“How do I decide?” Beau asked.
Nott pulled the flash from her belt and held it up to the monk. She wiggled it, the liquid inside sloshing about. Beau chuckled, and shook her head.
“Not a good idea,” Said Beau.
Nott smirked. “Thank you, I think so too.”
For a moment, beau frowned, before she rolled her eyes, having understood the pun; Nott, a good idea.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Beau sighed. “I just feel so stupid,” she said.
Nott looked up. “Why?”
“I just…” beau shook her head. “You ever sometimes just feel like every time you do something, it’s the wrong thing to do?”
Nott snorted. “All the time.”
Beau smiled, wry but at least something other than a frown. Nott couldn’t help but smile back.
“So drink up,” Said Nott. “Drink and think, thats what I recommend.” She placed the flask on the small stone table in front of the bench, and waited for a moment. When she was sure Beau’s attention was on the flask, Nott silently slid from the bench, and headed for the door to the inn, stealthily blending into the night and going unnoticed by Beauregard.
///
The flask was a promising solution to Beauregard’s problems, but she did not reach for it. Not straight away. She didn’t think her arms would even move right now, her mind too preoccupied by thoughts to try to multitask with any other part of her body.
For the longest time, Beau had thought that the feelings she’d had for Yasha had been some sort of girlish crush. A crush on Yasha; because who wouldn’tcrush on Yasha. Yasha was beautiful, ethereally so, and there was something intriguing about her. She was also impossibly kind, when the world had not been so to her, and Beau had admired that about her, always. And so it wasn’t hard to develop somethingfor Yasha.
When Yasha left, Beau was convinced it was just a crush. And Beau had always thought that was that. But now Yasha was back Beau was starting to realise that nothat wasn’t it at all. It hadn’t been a ‘crush’. There had been something there, and Beau had forced those feelings into a tiny box called stupid crushesin her mind because it was easier to consider Yasha a friend than it was to consider her something more. Because that would have hurt a lot more. And so with those feelings pushed back somewhere deep in the chasm of her intricate and complex mind, she moved on. Because if there was one thing Beauregard knew about herself, it was that her heart was too big.
Beau knew people who met her assumed her to be heartless; she was known for one thing, and that was punching people. People and things, she could hit them well. She wasn’t the best monk, not great at meditating or stilling her mind, and she knew she could be a terrible friend at times. But that was the surface. Surface Beau was a dick, and she knew that.
But beneath Surface Beau was Beauregard Lionett, and that girl was deeply emotional.
Too emotional, she sometimes thought. It was why she made sure to always keep Surface Beau up and running. It saved her from a lot of uncomfortableness.
So after Yasha left, Beau moved on, and began to explore her feelings for Jester, feelings that had always been there but had always laid somewhere underneath those for Yasha. Because Jester had always been Beau’s favourite friend. And then Jester had started to confide in Fjord, and Beau hadmissedher. And so feelings had become real.
They had penetrated through Surface Beau and found their way to Lionett.
And Beau had just been starting to come to terms with that.
But now Yasha was back, and the stupid crushesbox was blown open, and the stupid crushwas revealed to not be a stupid crush after all, but a cannonball of hurt and pain and care and affection and…
And that word that Beau still wouldn’t use. That word that Beau wouldn’t use for either woman. The word Beau didn’t want to use.
Because she didn’t want to choose.
She didn’t want to have to.
But she knew she would one day. Because likingtwo women like that would destroy her.
And Beau knew that liking even oneof them would destroy her anyway, because the chances of either liking her back were… minimal.
Because Beau saw what happened when Fjord was mind-controlled today, saw how Jester reacted. She saw how Jester reached for his hand, grabbed him and begged him to be safe. She knew how much Jester cared for Fjord, and Beau knew it would destroy her to love Jester.
And because Beau knew Yasha has a whole world of pain in her past, a wife she still mourns and a history she doesn’t truly understand, Beau knew that Yasha still had her own heart to sort out before she could begin to look at anothers. And Beau knew it was already destroying her to love Yasha, it had been for months.
Beau knew.
But she didn’t think about it further.
It may be possible to love two people at once, but Beau sure as hell didn’t want to; she can’t take it.
And so she took thoughts of both women and pushed them into the box in her mind called fucking feelings and painful shit, and picked up the flask Nott left for her on the table.
She downed the entire contents and smiled when it refilled itself. A single tear fell down her cheeks. She didn’t bother to wipe it away. Eyes closing she lifted the flask back to her lips, and drank.