Work Text:
“Beloved”, the note read. “I can only guess at what a terrible sorrow lays on you, and I hope my absence did not bring you any more,”.
An uncouth tear blurred my vision. I wiped it hurriedly and read on.
“I am on my way now, and can assure you I am well as I can be. Look for me when the snow starts falling steadily.
Love, Your Fool.”.
I read the note again and once more to verify its contents. Calling me by his name - the gesture did not escape me, and tears threatened once more as I considered it. And when the snow starts falling steadily - it felt so far away, with the high summer sun beating at my study window and calling all for a lazy stroll, or a small nap. Still, I did not think of anything I could do but trust him that he is well.
None of Chade’s contacts have managed to tail The Fool and The Black Man for long - they were seen, here and there on their journey back to where The Fool was raised, the city of Clerres, but their trail was always invariably lost. We could surmise they were using skill pillars, those monuments that allowed for instant travel between them, but Chade’s project of mapping them out was far from complete and in any case pertained, at the moment, to the Six Duchies alone. Still, I had no reason to fear my old friend ran into any trouble, except, well - just fear itself, the kind that requires no particular reason.
I’ve put the note away, not before reading it once more and fighting back another tear - happiness? Worry? Simply being so moved by it, or missing my friend that I loved so dearly? Probably a combination of some kind, one I tried not to ponder. I put on my hat, and resolved to seek out Bee and take her on a walk.
~
“Have you seen the scarf at that stall? You know what I mean, the one so bright green it shone even by street lamplight - yes, exactly, with the gilding! I was thinking we could return and get it - “ Shun’s chatter barely registered as I eyed Bee, walking briskly with us through the market, clad in her new shoes and winter wear. I did not take much care before to dress my little girl as befit a minor noble’s child, and I had to admit the clothes suited her splendidly. Perhaps a seamstress could take her for a fitting, as even the smaller sizes did not fit her perfectly, but that was easy to do. In all my years as lord of Withy I never spent myself any amount on what I internally regarded as frivolities - except what Molly, when she was alive, insisted I do, and even then begrudgingly and only for that one revelry or banquet we simply had to attend or host. Spending on my child felt different - seeing her dressed so well felt like a precious memory, one worth any amount of money. And Lant was keeping Shun well busy to notice how taken I was, in any case.
Belatedly I noticed Shun’s chatter stopped, and she was exchanging worried questions with Lant. “What’s going on over there?” I squinted towards the bend in the road they were pointing towards, where some frackas was unfolding - a man was screaming, “Don’t let them take me! Robbers! Kidnappers! Please!”.
“Probably just a drunk being hauled to sleep it off” shrugged Lant, and Shun laughed a small, nervous laugh. But something did not feel right to me - the person did not look drunk at all, just very afraid, and the people around him trying to restrain him - something was off about them too. Before I knew it my instincts, the assassin’s instincts, the soldier’s instincts, the wolf - some combination had me already briskly walking towards the commotion, hand on the hilt of my simple sword, and I had already barked back at Lant “Keep an eye on Bee, Lant, and stay right there.”
“Nothing to see here.” One of the men deigned to block my path, and it was then that I noticed he was armed - not as a townsfolk might carry a tool of his trade, but carrying a mean looking mace on his belt. He could not, try as he might, block my vision of the man they were accosting - and my heart skipped a beat as I knew that it was him. My Fool. Something was wrong with the way he looked, I knew that, but my actions were already ahead of my thinking.
“That man is my friend.” I said, smiling calmly. “And I would appreciate it if you let him go. I will take care of him.” My smile was taut, like a fashionable item of clothing about to give at the seams. The man looked to his mates before looking back to me, a snarl crossing his face. It occured to me his speech in the tongue of the Six Duchies was far from fluent.
“Go away, we take care.” Perhaps he only memorized useful phrases.
“Is that all they teach you in Chalced?” I asked, smoothly pulling out my sword. It was six people, I believed, and passerbys have gathered to look but did not appear to be interested in getting in the way -
“Not all.” Said a vicious voice behind me, and I heard the gasp of air being cut through by a sharp object.
But I had already moved to the side, blindly seeking the assailant with my sword. It found something, bit into it, and I heard a cry of pain. A start, to be sure. Now for the end.
~
I was hugging the fool, and he was hugging me back. I could not see well - a head injury? Just crying, probably, I thought dumbly. I freed a hand to wipe away at my face. I could hear voices around us - Lant was yelling at people to get away, that Tom Badgerlock stopped these ruffians from ‘robbing and doing maybe worse to that poor soul’. I heard Shun’s shrill voice demanding more information. I touched my Fool on his face, just for a moment, and he smiled, surprised, as I turned away to look around. Where was my daughter?
There she was. Lant was holding tightly on to her hand, bless him. Of course she wasn’t asking useless questions like the rest. She just stared at us with her quiet intensity. Bee is safe. I sighed deeply, and rose to start answering questions. The time of the wolf was over, and the time for Tom to answer a few questions before departing with dignity to his abode was upon us.
~
“Don’t worry about these scars, they healed better than they look”, The Fool dismissed my concerns as we gathered, the two of us, in my study. We were both drinking brandy, relaxing into our chairs. Lant and Shun took my answers at face value, thank goodness, and Bee settled into bed without complaint after I solemnly promised to explain all to her tomorrow. I knew from the look in her eyes she would hold me to that promise, and knew that I would keep it.
“The people at Clerres - not the Whites, but the Servants, the so-called caretakers, did not take kindly to Prilkop and I returning. We were - and you will forgive a slight speculation - a mark on the plans they made. Me living rendered the prophecies they made in the meantime - and they produced a lot from the whites they keep, we will speak more of that later - it made them unreliable. If they did not prophesize me returning, what else could they have missed? Were their plans even viable if I, the true White Prophet of this age, still lived?” He smiled, taking another deep swig.
“The answer is no, Fitz. Prilkop and I did not take long to catch wind of their dismay. He tried to confront them, and they put him away in their dungeons - ones I did not know exist in Clerres, but apparently do, and are numerous and deep. Me they tried to torture, to gather more information that will put credence into their own false prophecies. I told them all of it was nonsense, that none of that would come to be more than a hen can be prophesized to lay a duck egg. They did not like that, hah! This -” and he gestured to a particularly vicious scar along his cheek, “was the result of that particular quip. But Prilkop and I had some allies in that place after all - the other Whites, the half-whites in Clerres, at least some of them knew in their hearts what we were and what we represented. I heard Prilkop was broken out and whisked away to some other land - perhaps the rural lands around Jamaillia, where even as a former prophet they will treat him well. And one evening, after the day’s questioning, they came for me - I was put into some cart or something like it, inside a load of laundry I think. A couple of those half-Whites even escorted me a good leg of the way and managed to pass along a message to you. You did get it, yes?”
I nodded to confirm, tears once again threatening to stream as I was taken with the danger my friend was in. I nodded quickly and drank more of the brandy, before he could see.
But of course he knew anyway, and he laughed at me. “Fitz, beloved, you have nothing to fear anymore. The last I heard of Clerres, their plans and their entire hold over their White charges were falling apart piece by piece. They sent these thugs, mercenaries, whatever they are after me - but I think that will be the last of their resources, at least for a good while. I am safe here in the Duchies. Safe here with you.”
I took his hand in mine, white thin scars streaked across it, and wept openly. Safe. My fool, through so much danger, is safe with me, and will remain so. My heart felt wide, and filled to the brim. Only missing Molly could tarnish this moment, and yet I knew she would be happy as well.
“And Prilkop does not think it is dangerous for you to - “ I said finally, my accursed mind looking for one more thing that could possibly ruin my happiness.
“I have convinced him.” The Fool said lightly, placing his other hand on mine. “I told him the world and its future are sturdy things, that can withstand two fools being with each other.”
I laughed slightly, still weeping. One last thing -
“Fool, I have always loved you, you know this. And you know my love for you will always be as the friends we are and not - not anything -”
“Fitz, beloved, stop being a fool, I believe that role has to be kept by me.” A merry glint danced across my Fool’s eyes. “I have told you this before and I will tell you as many times as need be. I love you, and I will return any love you give me, with no scruples or expectations. Beloved -” He started, noticing I was weeping strongly again.
“All is well.”
I raised my eyes and smiled at him, because finally I knew that it was.