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1.
The stump isn’t big. Melf apparently hadn’t been worried about having a big home, and that’s perfectly fine with Hardwon. Between the dwarfanage and the ship, he’s used to small spaces. He likes them, even.
He’s just not used to them being… his.
It’s been 24 hours since he got to the crick, and he hasn’t let Moonshine or Cobb in the stump at all. He’s pretty sure Cobb is getting suspicious, and he knows for a fact that Moonshine is, but there’s something a little… well, call it what it is, it’s embarrassing not having anything to put in his home. He’s an adult, for god’s sake, he should be able to make a space his own.
But he’s never had a space of his own, not completely. He’d made paintings on the Stormborn, hidden things away, but he hasn’t done anything like that in the stump. He doesn’t know how. Maybe it’s just not home yet. But the crick is definitely his home, so this has to be home too. Right?
Ugh. This is the worst.
“Hardwon!” Moonshine hollers from outside. He startles and then sighs. There’s no stopping her. Moonshine’s coming in, whether he likes it or not. “You home?”
“I’m here,” he shouts back. Time to face the music. “Come on in, the swamp is fine.”
“Swamp’s always fine,” Moonshine says. He doesn’t turn around as she clambers in. “Cobb’s coming over in a minute, I thought we could- what’s going on in here?”
Hardwon allows himself one private wince before he turns around. She’s standing in the middle of his stump, which is empty except for a couch and bed that he inherited from Melf, with Paw-Paw on her shoulders and her hands on her hips. She doesn’t look upset, just confused. “Where’s all your stuff?”
“I don’t really own stuff,” Hardwon admits. Her face softens, but it’s not pitying or anything, thank god. Moonshine would never pity him, he knows that, but it’s nice to see it in action. “I mean, I never… this is…”
“The first place you’ve lived on your own,” she finishes. “Aw, Hardwon.”
“I just haven’t started decorating yet,” he says, trying to sound firm. “It’s going to happen soon. Any day now.”
“Course it is.” She turns in a slow circle, looking the walls up and down as she goes. “Melf always had an eye for real estate. This is a good place for you. Plenty of space for you to fill.”
“You think so?”
“Hardwon!” She grabs his hand and points at one wall. “I need you to visualize with me.”
“Visualize,” Hardwon repeats skeptically. There’s a noise from outside, and he glances over as Cobb climbs into the stump. “Hey, Cobb.”
“Hey, Hardwon,” Cobb says cheerfully. He glances around, which only takes a second because there’s not much to say, and then turns back to Hardwon, looking unfazed. “Whatcha up to?”
“Visualizing.” He glances down at the hand that Moonshine’s still gripping, then reaches out his other hand to Cobb. “Wanna join?”
“You know I do, brother.” He steps up next to them and takes Hardwon’s hand. “Take it away, Moonshine.”
“Thought you’d never ask.” She clears her throat loudly and points at the wall again. “This is for pictures. Over here-” a hand gesture off to one side- “is where we’re gonna set up the kitchen and all that. And don’t you say that you can’t cook, you’re gonna have other folks cooking in your stump, that’s just how the crick does it. We gotta get you a better couch, by the way, because that ain’t gonna hold up when the young’uns try and visit you.”
“Young’uns?” Hardwon repeats skeptically, but Cobb elbows him, and he rolls his eyes. “Okay, keep going.”
“Now, your bed’s okay,” she continues, like he’d never said anything. “And it’s set up fine, sure, but we gotta get you a curtain or something fancy. Bunch of drawers, a whatsitcalled, so you have somewhere to hide your art supplies. And of course we gotta fix up your rope bridge and connect your stump back to everyone’s. You need an easy way for visitors to get here. You’re gonna be real popular around here.”
She stops and looks at him expectantly. Hardwon blinks, dazed. “You think people are going to come here on purpose,” he says slowly.
Moonshine and Cobb let out identical scoffs, and Paw-Paw makes a face. “Hardwon,” Cobb says, “don’t you know anything about the crick?”
“I know the hospitality, of course, I just think-”
“Melora and Marabelle,” Moonshine mutters. She tugs on Hardwon’s hand. “C’mon, let’s go.”
He lets her drag both him and Cobb out of the stump. “Uh, where are we going?”
“Shoutin’ stump. We got an announcement.”
“We do?”
“We do now!” She pulls the three of them, daisy-chained together, through the crick and the crowds until they reach the shouting stump. Once they get there, she lets go of Hardwon’s hand to leap up, and then looks at him expectantly.
Hardwon glances at Cobb. “You coming?”
“I think you’ve got it handled,” Cobb says, but he gives Hardwon’s hand a good squeeze before he lets go. “You know, Moonshine might be loudest about it, but we all think you’re part of the crick now. You know that, right?”
“Sure,” Hardwon says, because if he says no then it’s gonna be a whole thing, and he has to deal with whatever Moonshine’s doing first. “You’re my best friend, Cobb.”
Cobb swats at his arm. “Get up there,” he laughs, but after a beat he adds, “best friend.”
Hardwon grins and climbs up next to Moonshine. She squeezes his forearm with both hands and smiles brightly at him, then throws her head back and shouts, “Listen up, y’all!”
The crick, which is as busy and bustling as normal, goes totally still.
Moonshine points at Hardwon. “Y’all already know Hardwon moved into Melf’s stump.”
A chorus of “howdy” and “hey, Hardwon” rises from the crowd. Hardwon waves at them all.
“Well, it has come to my attention that Hardwon Surefoot, who is a hero of Bahumia but more importantly is a crick elf-”
Hardwon coughs.
Moonshine pauses to look him up and down. “A crick half-elf half-dwarf half-human,” she amends, and Hardwon nods, feeling warm all over. “Has not had a crick housewarming!”
A gasp rushes through the crowd. Hardwon blinks. “I haven’t had a what?”
Paw-Paw screams. “He doesn’t even know what it is!” Moonshine shouts, and more gasps rise up. “We can fix this, but we gotta work quick now. I need a bunch of y’all to start cooking up some jambalaya, because you know I’m good, but I’m not emergency stump-warming good. If anyone’s got old things you don’t want, bring ‘em down to Hardwon’s stump. And if you’re a fixer, come help fix up that rope bridge and say hi! Hardwon is our neighbor.”
“Gotta be hospitable,” Cobb yells from the ground. Moonshine points at him, and he nods seriously. “C’mon, folks, let’s give him a real crick welcome.”
The cricks all start scattering, a loud murmur running through the crowd. Hardwon glances at Moonshine. “I don’t know, isn’t everyone kind of busy? You guys just adopted a dragon. And a bunch of refugees from Gladeholm. And-”
“And we adopted you,” Moonshine says firmly. “If we got things to take care of, then you’re one of those things too. Welcome to the crick. Now it’s time to make it your home. Cobb!”
Cobb’s head snaps up. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You take him back to his stump and direct traffic. Keep him from getting overwhelmed.”
Hardwon scoffs. “Uh, I don’t get overwhelmed.”
“Course not.” Cobb offers a hand and helps Hardwon climb down from the stump. “Come on, brother, we’ve got a house to fix up.”
“And I got a mean jambalaya to cook.” Moonshine hops down from the stump and smiles at them brightly. “I’ll see you soon,” she says, and Paw-Paw makes an affirming sound, and then they’re both off.
“She’s really something special,” Cobb murmurs.
“All of you are,” Hardwon answers honestly. “This whole place… the people, the hospitality-”
“If you haven’t had a visitor since you got here, then we ain’t being hospitable enough.”
“You know what I mean. The crick is amazing.”
“The crick is yours,” Cobb answers, and something in Hardwon’s chest slots into place. “Let’s get going. Gotta make sure no young’uns try and mess with your stump.”
“They’d better not,” Hardwon says, but he thinks Cobb knows that nothing would make him happier. A home’s not a home till it’s been messed with.
2.
“No,” Ulfgar says. He’s not shouting, which is a lot of restraint on his part. Somewhere through all of her frustration, Alanis tries to recognize that. “Alanis, come on.”
“Then I’ll do it alone,” she answers, as measured as possible. She knew that this conversation was going to go this way, but she was pretty sure that it would be the right thing to try and explain this to Ulfgar. It’s a pretty shitty right thing.
“Don’t do it at all,” he grits out. “Why the fuck-”
“You don’t understand what I’m saying,” she says, slipping into a smooth voice that she hasn’t used on him since they first met. It’s definitely a little patronizing, which is a dirty trick, and it makes him stand a little straighter and glare a little harder. “I’m not asking if you think it’s a good idea. I’m inviting you.”
“You shouldn’t do this.”
“If you’re saying no, then you’re declining an invitation. That’s all.”
“Alanis-”
“That’s all. ”
“There’s no reason-”
And that, somehow, is what shatters her calm.
“She was our fucking friend!” Alanis shouts. “Of course there’s a reason! Don’t you remember that we used to be friends? We spent months - no, we spent years with her. We were a team. I loved her, Ulfgar, didn’t you love her?”
“I don’t love her anymore,” Ulfgar says. He’s not shouting, which is super unsatisfying. “And you shouldn’t either.”
“But I used to! Both of us did.”
Ulfgar just stares at her, and Alanis has to bite down on her frustration. He’s so black and white all the time. Sometimes that’s refreshing. God knows he’s solved plenty of problems for her, magical and alchemical and even personal, just by cutting away the bullshit she can’t see through. And Alanis loves him. Even on days like this, she loves him.
But Alanis lives inside an oil painting. Shades of grey all slide together until there’s barely any sense of light or dark. There’s a spectrum. She just wants him to admit that there’s a middle to the spectrum.
And today’s truth, coming from the middle of the grey oil paint: Alanis still loves Thiala, in some way or another.
“Doesn’t she deserve a funeral?” she says. It comes out more like a plea than she intended. Fuck, maybe she is pleading. Maybe she just wants someone to tell her she’s right.
Ulfgar takes a deep breath in and then lets it out slowly. It’s a trick she’s pretty sure he learned from Beverly, and she’s proud of him for using it.
“Alanis,” he says at last. “She used me.”
“I know, she used both of-”
“Not the gems.” He swallows. “In Galaderon, after you were gone, I got sick. She said that she would heal me, and instead she corrupted me. She rewrote me into… into nothing. I wasn’t a person, I wasn’t me, I was just a dog that she was trying to train. That’s what Thiala thought of me, after all of those months and years we spent together.”
Alanis lets out a slow exhale. “Fuck,” she mutters. She knew that on some level, but it’s different thinking trying to picture it happening. Ulfgar, sick and rotted, and Thiala touching him in a mockery of the healing gestures she’d done dozens of times before.
“You can do whatever you want,” Ulfgar says, so quietly that Alanis tears up without meaning to. He’s taking this seriously for her. He’s trying so fucking hard. “But I need you to remember what she did to me. Of course I loved her. She was my best friend. But she took that love away from me. She did that to me herself. I mourned that loss a long time ago.”
“I still haven’t yet,” Alanis admits. “I always knew there was no way I could stop her. I tried and nothing worked. But I still hoped that maybe-”
“You’d be enough,” he finishes grimly. “Yeah, me too. I trusted her. I knew she was doing bad things, but I thought she wouldn’t do the bad things to me. Or to you. And she controlled you too.”
She had. But Alanis had known it was a risk - more than that, she had known it was all but guaranteed. She’d never trusted Thiala, not for a second. She’d been hopeful, and foolish, and she’d paid the price. But Ulfgar is so damn honest in his own way. He’d put his life in Thiala’s hands, and in return she tried to bleed him dry.
“I’m still going to do something for her,” Alanis says at last. “We promised, way back when we first set out to find Ilsed. Remember?”
“I remember.” Ulfgar frowns. “I thought she broke that promise first, but I remember. Are you going to Galaderon?”
“Hell no. I’m going to find a river or something and make a pile of rocks next to a tree. That’s about as much effort as I’m willing to put into it.”
He nods. “I won’t go with you. I’ll get drunk with you after, though. Call it a celebration of survival.”
Alanis laughs. “Can we also get drunk before?”
“Don’t push it,” Ulfgar says, which she knows is as good as a yes. “But really, fuck Thiala, right?”
“Oh, definitely,” Alanis says immediately. “What a bitch.”
“What a devil!”
Alanis smiles and does not think about Thiala the way she remembers her, healing Ulfgar with a ghost-light touch of fingertips to forehead, clutching her amulet and speaking of Pelor with bright eyes and faith, seeking out light in the damnedest places. She needs to kill that person in her memories, the way Thiala must’ve killed Alanis and Ulfgar in hers.
Maybe she can do that tomorrow, she decides. Today, she can mourn.
3.
Egwene presses her hands together, eyes still squeezed shut, mouth in a thin line. She inhales deeply and then shakes her head.
Beverly glances at Erlin, who looks back at him, still stricken.
At last, Egwene lifts her fingertips to her mouth, hands still pressed together, and fixes Beverly with a truly devastating older sister glare. “Explain.”
“Well,” Beverly says cautiously. “We were talking about birthdays.”
“Birthdays,” Egwene repeats tonelessly.
“Because of Beverlin and Moonwon. And Erlin mentioned that you never really got a sweet sixteen, or an eighteenth birthday party, or any parties after…” he trails off and waves a hand, hoping that it encompasses the whole mess that had been the last couple of years. “So I thought it would be nice to do something for you this year.”
“So you got kidnapped.”
“Well, that wasn’t the plan-”
“What the fuck,” Egwene hisses, “was the fucking plan, Beverly?”
“That part was my idea,” Erlin says. He’s still looking down at his feet; Bev squeezes his hand, and he squeezes back. “I heard you say the other day that you needed some more of those flowers for your arrow poison, so I thought we could find some on our way back from the crick.”
“And you didn’t tell me about that because?”
“Because then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
Egwene lets out a huff. “I guess you’re lucky you didn’t, because otherwise I wouldn’t have come looking for you after you got kidnapped, what were you thinking?”
“I had my sword,” Beverly protests. “And we both had spells, it’s not like we were helpless-”
“Except for the part where they knocked you out.”
“We would’ve woken up!”
“Beverly,” Egwene bites out, and Bev’s mouth clamps shut. “Do you understand why I’m really not in the fucking mood for this?”
Bev can think of plenty of reasons that Egwene isn’t in the mood for this. Her birthday is soon, which means that it’s only a couple months after the anniversary of her parents dying, and only a couple months until the anniversary of Red and Gunther dying. It’s been hard for Erlin, so it must be hard for Egwene too. It’s also been a couple years since they defeated Thiala, and it’s been hard for Egwene to go back to normal. As Bev’s mom keeps saying, most girls her age don’t make poison for a living.
All of these reasons, of course, were reasons that Beverly really, really wanted to do something nice for her. She’s his big sister in just about every way. But all things considered, he was solving a problem his way, not hers.
“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Sorry, Egwene. I’ll ask my mom if she can make you a cake instead.”
Egwene stares. “What, you went to all that shit to get me my poison and you’re not even going to give it to me?”
Bev glances at Erlin, who starts digging through his pack. “I only got a couple flowers before they knocked us out,” he says, and pulls them out. “I think these are the right ones? I don’t-”
“Wait.” Egwene takes a step closer, and her eyes widen. “That’s not oleander.”
Erlin groans. “Oh, no, Egwene, I’m-”
“Shut up,” she murmurs. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a handkerchief, then takes the flowers, incredibly gingerly. “These are viperroot and you shouldn’t touch them with your bare hands, ever. Go wash your hands right now. Bev, did you touch it earlier?”
“I don’t think so? I held Erlin’s hand, but-”
“If you notice something’s off you need to tell me right away. Erlin, go wash your hands, now. ”
Erlin hops up and dashes off. Egwene takes his seat next to Bev and starts wrapping the flowers into a tiny parcel. “Be honest,” she says, a little more subdued. “Was it your idea or his?”
“The party was mine, the flowers were his.”
Egwene nods and ties her handkerchief into a neat knot. Bev hands her one of his own hankies, and she starts double-wrapping it. “This stuff is poisonous as shit. You really shouldn’t be touching any poison with your bare hands. This is why you need someone who knows something about poison when you go hunting for poison.”
Bev nods and then pauses, brain churning. Egwene was never a party person, not even when she was younger, and he and Erlin clearly weren’t qualified for the adventure they went on. Especially considering they almost got kidnapped by random bandits. Besides, a lot of what Egwene’s going through boils down to something simple: she’s lonely and out of her depth.
“Hey,” he says brightly. “I know what we should do for your birthday.”
Egwene shoots him a sidelong look. “Beverly, this was a sweet idea even if you were a little stupid about it, but-”
“Let’s go camping!”
“Camping?”
“Yeah, and you can show me and Erlin all the plants we shouldn’t touch.”
“Like a scoutmaster?”
“Like an older sister,” Erlin says, and plops down on Egwene’s other side. She taps his wrist, and he holds up his hands for her to inspect. “Sorry we got kidnapped and nearly poisoned ourselves.”
“Just try not to do it again,” Egwene sighs. She looks down at the double-wrapped package of flowers. “I’m busy this week.”
“You tell us when you want to go and we’ll clear our schedule.” Erlin leans his head against Egwene’s shoulder, and she instinctively wraps an arm around his waist. He smiles. “It’ll be fun.”
“Maybe,” Egwene says at last. “But I’m still mad at you both.”
Still, she holds out her other arm. Bev doesn’t hesitate before dropping his head on Egwene’s shoulder. She squeezes his waist, and he slides one hand behind her back to tangle his fingers with Erlin’s.
“Happy birthday,” he whispers, and Erlin echoes it.
“Shut up,” Egwene says, but he can see her smiling.
4.
Moonshine opens the door. “Okay, remain calm.”
“Oh, no,” Jaina says. She’s sitting in a chair, hands clutching at the fabric of her suit pants as Hardwon braids her hair. She doesn’t move her head, but her fingers all twitch. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Moonshine says exasperatedly. “Melora, I said remain calm-”
“I am calm!”
“Neither of you are calm.”
“Uh, I’m totally calm,” Hardwon says. He looks completely blissed out braiding Jaina’s hair. He hasn’t said it, but Moonshine knows this kind of thing is a big deal for dwarves. She has to imagine that in a different world it would be Gemma doing this, and Jaina turned down an awful lot of cousins to make sure that it was Hardwon doing it for her.
“Not you,” Moonshine says patiently. “I’m talking about our other bride-to-be. She asked me to tell you to calm down.”
“Tell her I said to calm down instead,” Jaina answers automatically.
Moonshine throws her hands up. “That’s what I just did! You wanna try and calm Scrumper down, be my guest, but I don’t think either of you is gonna be calm until tonight when you’re consummating.”
“Ew,” Hardwon says. “Moonshine, gross, that’s my sister.”
“I’ve consummated with her before,” Moonshine says sweetly. Hardwon makes a face; Jaina reaches up for a high-five, looking instantly more relaxed. Moonshine high-fives her and sticks her tongue out at Hardwon. “And even though it has been several years since then, I’d like to say that Apple Scrumper is a very lucky lady indeed.”
Hardwon gags, not pausing with the braids. “You’re an obnoxious bridesmaid.”
“She’s a distant cousin and an ex,” Jaina points out. “And she’s the one who introduced the two of us. That’s the trifecta of the worst things a bridesmaid can be.”
Moonshine does a mocking curtsy so low that her knees and nose nearly touch the floor at the same time. “I live to serve,” she says, drawing on her inner Lucanus.
Both Apple and Jaina had been guests at the third jamboreen after Thiala. At the time Moonshine had been in the middle of what Bev called “a sullen spell” about immortality, so she’d just about forced the two lovely ladies in a room together. They got on like a house on fire: Jaina picked up mudboarding right quick, and Apple was just as smitten with Jaina’s ship as she was with Jaina herself. The wedding invitation hadn’t been a surprise. The bridesmaid invitation, despite everything, had been.
Jaina smiles at her, patient and fond, and still enough to make Moonshine weak in the knees after all these years. “Do me a favor?”
She sighs, mockingly put-upon. “What’s that?”
“Tell her I love her?”
“Ugh,” Moonshine says, but she turns and sweeps down the hall without hesitating. She knew what she was signing up for. She’s the natural choice for the bridal go-between. Bev and Paw-Paw are ushering - Paw-Paw is head usher, of course, but it was mighty sweet of young Bev to offer to help - and Hardwon is Jaina’s best man. So that leaves her as the one following the whims of the brides. The things she does for her friends.
Apple’s bridal suite is three doors down. Moonshine doesn’t bother knocking, just pushes the door open. “Hey,” she yells.
Half a dozen field elves shout greetings back at her. Mavrus and Tonathan are playing poker in the corner together. Tonathan looks up and waves. Mavrus bobs his head in what might be a greeting and might just be him being him.
Moonshine waves back and turns to Apple. “How’re you feeling?”
“Not much bloody better than I was when you asked five minutes ago,” Apple snaps. “Why’re we having a normal wedding?”
“Because Jaina wanted one.”
“And why did I say yes?”
“Because you love her.”
Apple sighs. “Damn it, I do,” she mutters.
“I know,” Moonshine says sympathetically. For a fleeting second, she thinks about living thousands of years, about whether or not she’ll remember this moment when she’s older. But there are days for those thoughts, and this ain’t one of them. This is a day for celebrating. “Jaina asked me to say she loves you.”
Apple’s face melts into a moony expression. “She’s sweet,” she coos. “We’re getting married, did you know that?”
“Might’ve noticed,” Moonshine says, straight-faced. “You and the boys okay in here?”
“We’re doing just fine.” Apple lifts her head and cuts her eyes over towards Mavrus and Tonathan. “Isn’t that right, boys?”
“Yeah, sounds great,” Mavrus says. Tonathan just waves again.
Apple looks at Moonshine. “Those men have saved my life countless times,” she says seriously. “But sometime today I’m going to take their heads off. I can feel it in my bones.”
Moonshine pats her arm. “That just means you’re gonna be a good wife. You need anything? Drinks, potions, knives-”
“No potions,” Tonathan calls without looking over. “Bad luck.”
“I’m doing fine, thank you.” Apple smiles. “Go get yourself a drink, though. And fix your hair, you look a mess.”
Moonshine gasps. “I do not!”
“When’s the last time you checked?”
She ducks down to look at the mirror in front of Apple, and Apple immediately pushes her to the floor. She gasps loudly. “Scrumper, you no-good-”
“Scrumper Bronzebeard, please and thanks.”
“Not for another hour, it’s not.”
“I’m getting married,” Apple says, and then looks at Moonshine. “Remember when we fought Akarot and I lost an arm? I thought I was going to die.”
“I thought you were going to die too.”
“Look at me now.” Apple grins. “It’s my wedding day. Bet you didn’t see that coming.”
“No,” Moonshine says honestly, but there’s something warm blooming inside her chest, something hopeful. “You need anything, you just holler, alright?”
Apple waves her off. “Go get a drink, sit for a while. You’ve earned it.”
Moonshine smiles. “You know what? I think I have.”
5.
It’s been four years and seventy-two days since the last time Balnor saw the Band of Boobs.
It’s funny, all the things he keeps track of now that he never used to. It’s almost entirely unconscious. The first time he offhandedly told Marianne that it was seven weeks until their anniversary, she’d looked at him like he’d grown a second head. It’s a strange thing to say.
Balnor understands. Coming home was a steeper curve than he’d expected. Marianne had been completely understanding, taking it upon herself to explain to Bobby why Daddy was acting a little different now.
It’s been four years and seventeen days since the Hounds were defeated, and it was a hard four years. But it was worth it. It was worth saying goodbye to his second family to get the privilege of watching his son grow up. It was worth it to know he was keeping people safe. He teaches the kids in the village how to fight - nothing too complicated, but enough that they can defend themselves. He also teaches them how to run and hide, just in case.
He doesn’t dream about Thiala as much as he used to, which is a blessing and a curse. The problem is that everything is getting fuzzier all at once. He can’t remember Hardwon as clearly - he was a human who became a half-elf and not the other way around, right? - and he can’t remember Bev’s singing voice. One day he couldn’t remember Paw-Paw’s name for fifteen minutes, something simple that threw him into a tailspin.
But he’s home. He’s home, and he’s lucky to have Marianne. When he’d told her about not remembering Paw-Paw’s name, she’d remembered it and had given him a journal to write down what he knew. It helped to have something to hold in his own hands.
Yeah, Marianne’s a smart woman. He doesn’t even need to say anything: even though there’s no significance to it being four years and seventy-two days after the battle, she gives him a sympathetic look as soon as he trudges into the kitchen. “One of those days?”
“One of those days,” Balnor says, and accepts a coffee mug with a kiss on the cheek. “Where’s Bobby?”
“He’s still at Aiden’s, they had the sleepover last night.”
“Honey, he’s a teenager. I don’t think they call it a sleepover anymore.”
Marianne tuts the way she does whenever she remembers that their son is a teenager now. “Well, I’m afraid I won’t be around much today. Susan’s hosting that block party tomorrow night, and she asked me to help her get ready.” She doesn’t fret over if he needs her to stay; instead, she reaches out and squeezes his hand. “Alright?”
“Alright,” Balnor says, and squeezes her hand too. “Love you.”
“Love you, my hero.” A smile plays across Marianne’s lips, one that only grows when Balnor rolls his eyes. “Balnor the Brave, dashing off to a whole other time and plane to save the world-”
“I was doing it for you!”
“For honor and for glory-”
“Marianne,” Balnor laughs helplessly. She’s wonderful, that devilish glint in her eye, the way she holds his hand tight and fast. “Come on.”
“My husband, who spent months on end fighting his way back to us.” She lifts a hand to her forehead in a mockery of a dramatic swoon. “How could I not be proud?”
“Come on,” Balnor says again, but it’s softer this time. “Anyone could’ve done it.”
“Not anyone would’ve.”
“Uh,” says a voice from the portal between the kitchen and the den. “Is this a bad time?”
Balnor’s on his feet before he even realizes he’s moving, two steps in front of Marianne and reaching for a sword that isn’t there. “Who the hell,” he says, and then the words stick in his throat.
Erlin, standing on the other side of the portal, looks older. His hair is down to his shoulders, and he doesn’t look so awkward teenage-skinny anymore. His face is strained, which makes sense; whatever spell this is, it’s powerful as shit. “Hi, Balnor,” he says, and his face cracks into a gigantic smile. “And, uh, Mrs. Balnor.”
“Marianne,” she says from behind him. “Hello. Are you Beverly?”
“No, ma’am, I’m his fiance.”
“Fiance?” Balnor repeats, heart swelling with a bittersweet joy. It’s one thing to know that Beverly and Erlin must be adults by now; it’s another thing entirely to think about them getting married. “Erlin, congratulations, but is everything okay?”
“Yeah, actually, things are great.” He pauses. “I can only keep this open for about thirty more seconds, but I can cast it again tomorrow, so, Balnor, do you wanna come to our engagement party?”
Balnor immediately turns to Marianne. “I-”
“Of course,” she says, and presses a kiss to each cheek. “I’ll let Bobby know. Susan’s block party starts at two o’clock, so-”
“I’ll have him back by noon tomorrow,” Erlin says, with the same sincerity that he had as a teenager. “Thank you, Marianne.”
“You take good care of my husband,” Marianne says, and then all but pushes Balnor forward. “Have fun. Bring back souvenirs.”
Balnor steps through the portal and looks back at Marianne. “I love you,” he says.
“I love you too,” she answers, eyes shining with tears, and then the portal winks shut.
“Ugh,” Erlin says, and stumbles forward. Balnor catches him automatically with an arm around his waist. “Hi. Sorry, it only lasts sixty seconds, I didn’t have a lot of time.”
“That’s alright.” Balnor looks at him closely. He hadn’t spent much time around Erlin, what with the travelling and the gem, but he doesn’t remember Erlin being able to do that. “What the hell was that? Wish spell?”
“Gate spell. It’s, uh…” Erlin takes a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s a big one, I had to get help from Alanis and she’s pretty intimidating. But I thought it would be a pretty cool engagement present.”
“Don’t engagement presents normally come from other people?”
“Yeah, but…” Erlin smiles, and suddenly he looks shy and smitten. “Bev proposed,” he explains. When he brushes his hair back behind one ear, Balnor catches sight of a gold ring with something delicate engraved in it. “It was incredible. Egwene was involved, all of our friends were there. So I wanted to do something big for him too.”
“Kid,” Balnor says, and he has to swallow a couple times to choke back the tears. “The two of you are gonna be so happy.”
“Yeah, we are,” Erlin says. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, but then there’s the sound of feet pounding outside, and his mouth settles into a mischievous smile. “The party’s not for another few hours, so we can’t tell Bev you’re here yet. But…”
“Erlin!” Moonshine shouts. “Bev said you needed help with the thing he’s not supposed to know about, so we’re here to help!”
“Unless it’s something weird,” Hardwon adds. “I mean, we’ll help with a lot of things, but you gotta use your best judgment here.”
Balnor takes a deep, bracing breath. “I haven’t seen them in four years.”
“They haven’t seen you in ten. They’re about to lose their minds.” He goes to the door and opens it a crack. “I need you to keep it a secret. That includes Paw-Paw.”
“We’ll keep it a secret,” Hardwon says impatiently. “I just wanna know how weird it is. We’ve done a lot of weird stuff, but-”
“Erlin Kindleaf,” Moonshine says solemnly. One of her hands slides through the crack to rest on top of Erlin’s head. There are mushrooms growing under her fingernails. “We will be as hush-hush as you like. Unless the building is on fire.”
“Close your eyes, come in, and don’t open them until I say.” Erlin opens the door the whole way.
Hardwon and Moonshine step inside, and Balnor’s breath catches in his throat. Moonshine’s hair is shorter, but it’s still tangled and snagged at the ends. Hardwon’s shoulders look a little more relaxed, but his beard is bigger than ever. For a moment he just stares, committing their faces to memory and trying not to cry. He’s not going to be the first one to cry.
Paw-Paw pokes his head out of Moonshine’s overalls. His little eyes go wide, and Balnor instinctively lifts a finger to his lips to shush him.
“Paw-Paw,” Moonshine sighs, and smacks a hand over Paw-Paw’s face. Paw-Paw makes a quiet noise, and she shakes her head. “Erlin?”
“Gotta keep it quiet,” Erlin says, in what he has to know is a futile effort. He shuts the door and sighs. “Okay. Open your eyes.”
Both of them open their eyes. Moonshine’s hand drops away from Paw-Paw’s head, and for a moment none of them say anything, just stare.
“Hi,” Balnor says, and oh, damn it, he’s the first one crying.
“Holy shit,” Hardwon says. Or at least, that’s what Balnor thinks he says, because halfway through the first word Moonshine shrieks at the top of her lungs. Both of them launch themselves at him in tandem, and he has to struggle to stay standing as they throw their arms around him. He can feel Paw-Paw scrambling on top of his head, tiny claws scratching his scalp.
It takes fifteen minutes for them to quiet down enough to listen to Erlin again, and even then they’re barely listening. Moonshine still has one hand locked on Balnor’s shoulder, and Hardwon keeps looking suspiciously at the door.
“You gotta keep him out of sight,” Erlin says for the fiftieth time. “For the surprise.”
“Right,” Hardwon says. “Because Balnor’s here.” Erlin shushes him frantically, which he ignores. “Where can we hang out until the party starts?”
“University,” Moonshine suggests. “Not even Bev would go to the library if Erlin asks him to stay today.”
“I can do that,” Erlin agrees. “Party starts at six, so be back here by five.”
“Back by five,” Moonshine repeats. Paw-Paw reets a soft approval.
“It should be four,” Hardwon says. Balnor instinctively settles a hand on his elbow, and Hardwon swallows. “Yeah, four. If you can spare Bev for that long, he’s gonna want that time.”
Erlin smiles. It’s nothing like the gangly teen Balnor remembers. This is a young man standing in front of him, and a young man who loves his fiance at that. “Of course,” he says. “You guys can help me set up if I need it.”
Moonshine nods decisively and squeezes Balnor’s shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”
They end up in a library that Moonshine navigates with ease. She keeps waving at people, a little more subdued than Balnor remembers but just as heartfelt. Every single person waves back at her. That’s the Moonshine Cybin effect at work.
Finally, after winding through the shelves, she sits on top of a table with her legs pretzeled beneath her. “Young Erlin has quite the spells, apparently,” she says as Balnor sits next to her. There’s still a note of disbelief in her voice, and he can’t blame her one bit. “How’d that even work?”
Balnor shrugs. “Beats me. He said it was a gate spell.”
Moonshine whistles between her teeth. “That’s pretty good,” she murmurs, pleased and proud. “Those young’uns are all grown up, huh?”
“They sure are. Remember when they nearly broke up back in the Feywild?”
“So dramatic,” Hardwon says solemnly. Balnor has to bite his tongue to avoid pointing out that Hardwon was also pretty dramatic. They all were. It’s easy to be dramatic when the stakes are so high.
Paw-Paw makes a questioning noise, and Moonshine gasps, smacking her hand on the table. She looks at Balnor frantically. “The Hounds?”
“Not a problem,” he says, and both Hardwon and Moonshine exhale in relieved unison. “It’s been four years for me, and we’re safe. Bobby’s a teenager now.”
“Weird,” Hardwon says. He looks like he’s tearing up again.
“Yeah,” Balnor agrees. “Come on, tell me what you’ve been up to. I wanna hear about the crick.”
“In a minute.” Moonshine lowers her head awkwardly to rest on top of Balnor’s head. Paw-Paw scrambles into his lap, and Hardwon sits in the chair next to him and settles a hand on Balnor’s knee. “I know it’s a night of celebrating young Bev’s engagement, but I wonder if he can’t be talked into one last One Big Bed. But he’ll probably want Erlin there.”
“We always have the no-canoodling rule,” Hardwon points out. Balnor makes a horrified noise, and Hardwon grins. “Yeah, we had to make it official.”
“We’ll ask him after the party,” Moonshine decides. “You’re sticking around after the party, right, Balnor?”
“Sure am. Erlin said he’d send me back tomorrow morning.”
“So you’re ours for the night. And ours until 4.”
“Yours until 4,” Balnor agrees, and grins. “Got plenty of time to talk and do whatever we want to do.”
“Balnor, please,” Moonshine scoffs. “What could there possibly be to do between now and 4?”
At exactly 3:41, Hardwon says, “Wait, isn’t the party semi-formal?”
Balnor looks down at his clothes, which are not semi-formal, and then to Hardwon, then Moonshine. “Uh-”
“Let’s get moving,” Moonshine says, and springs to her feet. She and Paw-Paw are already dashing out of the library by the time Balnor and Hardwon are standing. They have enough time to exchange one look, equal parts exasperated and fond, before they rush out after her.
At 3:55, they get back to the party. It’s a two-prong attack to get Balnor back in the room where Erlin had summoned him: Moonshine goes inside to scout out a clear path, and Hardwon escorts him inside. The two of them leave him with a lot of clasped hands and teary eyes. Balnor has to remind them that he’ll still be at the party, and even then he’s not sure they listen.
At 3:58, Erlin pokes his head in. “Nice suit.”
“Thanks,” Balnor says, even though it’s not a great suit. It’s a little big and he had to pin the sleeves up, so it’s clearly the wrong size, but at least it’s a suit. “What exactly is Bev expecting?”
“I may have implied I bought him a lot of comic books.”
Balnor snorts. “That’s a heck of a cover story.”
“It was the only thing I could think of,” Erlin admits, looking chagrined. “We’ll be back in a couple minutes.”
He backs out of the room, and Balnor tries to take a deep breath. Hardwon and Moonshine, that’s one thing, but Beverly? That was his kid. Everything else be damned, Beverly was his kid for a while there. There have to be things that he wanted to say, things that he can’t remember now that he could say them. How old is Bev now anyways? Didn’t Erlin say it’d been ten years here? Is he taller? Kids can still get taller after sixteen, right?
“Okay,” Erlin says from outside the door. “Are you ready?”
“Ready,” Beverly says, and Balnor has to clap a hand over his mouth. His voice isn’t exactly deeper, but it’s lower and steadier. He’s clearly not a kid anymore. “I love you, Erlin.”
“I love you too,” Erlin says, and opens the door. He grins at Balnor. “Surprise,” he says softly.
There’s a split second before Bev notices him, probably because he’s looking for stacks of comic books or something. Balnor takes full advantage of that elastic moment to really look at Beverly. He’s dressed in clothing that looks more comfortable, and isn’t all green. There are still flowers in his hair, and messy braids that Balnor recognizes as being both dwarven and crick. He’s holding a cane, something he’d used a couple times in Gladeholm because of lingering injuries in his legs. It looks more natural in his hand now. He looks more natural, more comfortable. More himself.
And then his eyes land on Balnor, and he freezes, breathless.
“Hi, kiddo,” Balnor says, and Beverly bursts into sobs. This time it’s Balnor who rushes forward, wrapping his arms tight around Bev’s shoulders. Bev immediately clings to him with a vice grip around his waist. “Hey, hey, it’s okay-”
“Balnor,” Bev gasps, wet face pressed into Balnor’s neck. “Balnor Balnor Balnor-”
He strokes one hand down the back of Bev’s hair and reaches out to Erlin, who steps in to join the hug, pressing Bev firmly between the two of them. Bev makes a quiet noise, and Erlin’s arms find their way around the pair of them. None of them move for a long minute, just holding Bev as he clings to Balnor.
Finally, Beverly takes a deep, shuddering breath and pulls back enough to look Balnor in the eye. “Looks like I’m the tuna in this sandwich,” he says, an awkward half-joke, and Balnor bursts out laughing. Bev grins, relieved. “Did you hear I’m engaged?”
“I did, and congratulations. I think that’s why I’m here today.”
Beverly steps back a little further into Erlin’s arms, looking at him in amazement. “I can’t believe you- how- ”
“I’ll tell you how later.” Erlin presses a kiss to Beverly’s temple and backs away. “Right now, you guys have a couple hours together before the party starts.”
“Only a couple?” Beverly laughs wetly. “Erlin. Thank you.”
Erlin just smiles. “Love you, man.”
“Love you too.” Beverly turns to Balnor. There are still tears streaked down his face, but now he’s grinning, bright-eyed and just as Bev as ever. “I have so many stories I want to tell you, I have so much I want to say, but first I have a favor to ask.”
“Anything,” Balnor says immediately.
His grin widens. “Can you help me tie my tie? Hardwon told me to ask Moonshine for help but she told me to ask Hardwon.”
Balnor throws back his head and laughs. Some things never change.
“Beverly,” he says, “it would be my honor.”