Archive of Our Own ^beta

feels like spring (when we kiss)

The sky was crispy blue, the clouds mere wisps of white against the deep hue that framed them. The wind smelled like salt and something pure, something that only a small village near a promontory could ever hold. 

This was supposed to be their home, but by the hunch on his shoulders as he unloaded their things from the boat, it would be a while until it could be anything of the sorts. 

She exchanged a significant look with Talon as the last of their things got placed on the wooden wharf. His look said I’m worried, do you really think this is the best idea? Hers answered I don’t know, but I have to try. Then a want me to stay and help? earned him a small shake of her head. No, she didn’t. 

They had to do this on their own. 

Hel touched Lotraic’s back when he turned to give Talon a hug. “I wish you good winds, my friend.” 

“I wish you the same.” Talon smiled, mask left aside for this. “Anything you need, message me, alright?” 

“Will do.” Hel answers for him. Neither of them missed how her touches were not reciprocated anymore. Not since what happened. 

“Whatever news I have, I’ll come straight to you guys, alright?” Talon looked around as the crew worked to put them back onto the open sea. “Oh! You forgot Salem!” 

“No, I didn’t.” Hel chuckled. “He’ll be happier making a mess of your boat and then of Istishia. He’d go insane here with us.” 

Talon laughed. “Not a lie.” He paused, looked at the drow. “ I’ll take good care of him.”

Hel smiled. “So will I.” 

They stayed until the ship was the size of her little finger’s nail, just watching it sail away with the wind on their faces and the sun on their skin. Another chapter of their lives closed. Another new leaf to begin writing. 

She did not attempt to touch him again. 

The tavern lady smiled brightly at them when they entered, probably not used to foreigners coming to such a small town. Of course, she would not smile if she saw Hel’s original form, with black skin and red eyes, but those were things she gave up voluntarily, and refused to regret. 

“Room for two, please.” She smiled at the woman, handing her a couple of silver pieces. “Just for a night. Oh, and do you have any rooms on the first floor?” That part was whispered. Luckily, he was not in the vicinity yet, probably making some other arrangements. 

“Of course, dear.” The matron got a set of keys. “Are you staying only for a night?” 

“That depends on how quick we can buy land, m’am.” Hel answered, trying to appear cheerful. 

“Oh, so you plan to stay as residents?” She looked over the other woman’s shoulder. “Are you here alone?” 

“No, you see, me and my husband just got married and he used to live around this area.” She revealed conspiratorially. “So the idea is to buy some land where we can plant and farm. Maybe raise some little ones in peace, you know?” 

“Oh, yes, I certainly understand, dear. It’s so hard for newlyweds, oh.” She put her hand over her bosom. “Reminds me of my late husband Jim, may the gods have his soul.” 

Hel had to repress the wince at the mention of gods, thinking about a sword thrown at the bottom of a well, most likely to fall back into the Shadowfell to never come back. Talon still had the stone and would deliver it to Lynx, as promised. 

Shaking her head off of the dark memories, the disguised drow looked at the woman. She had curly dark hair with wisps of grey around her eye-length bangs. She looked like a slightly overworked woman - a local, if nothing more. 

That was interesting. 

“Say, don’t you know of anyone who may be thinking of selling their land? Preferably near a forest or a stream.” 

“Oh, well,” She wiped her forehead with her handkerchief. “The war almost didn’t reach these parts, so most people didn’t see any sense in moving. Although…” She looked at a man that had his head down and a bottle clutched to his chest. “JARED! You useless drunk, wake up!” 

“FUCK!” The bottle fell from his hand, spilling what smelled like cheap whisky. “What’s it now, woman? I paid my bill already!” 

“You did not , but it’s not what I woke you up for.” She looked at him sternly. “What happened to late Alberforth’s land?” 

The man scratched his thin, greasy hair. “Well, I don’t know. I guess it’s still there, right?” 

Hel almost laughed. 

“No, man! I mean, what did his daughter do with it? Is she moving there, is she selling…?”

“She’s selling it, Roberta.” Another man, fatter, grayer and definitely more awake than the previous fellow, answered. “But apparently, nobody’s buying it. No one wants to pay the just price for a farm with all those things. She’s thinking of tearing some of it down and selling it in parts.”

“All of what , exactly?” Hel asked the man directly, interested already. 

“Well, the farm is very complete , you see. It uses the river for the mill, the forest for wood, it has a lot of space for crops and animals, and there’s a house already there, and a bunch of sheds where old Albeforth Miller and his wife produced their things: flour, cheese, butter, you name it. They build it all with sweat and tears, you see, but most people aren’t interested in having all that equipment and storage nowadays, since they can easily just come to town and buy everything ready.” The man explained. 

Perfect. It was perfect. 

“How much are they selling it for?” However much it was, she was sure between her and Lotraic, they had it. 

“I think she originally wanted two plats for it.” He answered. 

“And where does the daughter of the late Mister Miller live?” Hel’s posture probably told them she was up for business, because they promptly pointed to the building. 

Perfect . It was going to be perfect . 

_____________________________________________________________________________

The land was theirs by the following morning. She and Lotraic bought a couple of horses and a wagon, following the instructions left by the previous owner. 

When you get to a field of white marsh marigolds, you just turn a left until you find a stream. Following it up, there’s no error. 

The instructions were clear and easy to follow. What wasn’t as easy was the road, which had been wet and filled with deep holes hidden by the water. Despite Lotraic’s ability to drive a wagon, one of the wheels ended up stuck inside one of those slippery holes. 

He already looked furious when he jumped from the wagon - which had to hurt - to push on it. His strength would usually be enough for something like this, especially summed with the horses, but the newly installed peg leg on his left side kept slipping on the moist soil, stopping him from getting any purchase to push. 

“Hey, lemme try-” She motioned to jump from the wagon too. 

“I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP!” His yell echoed on the open fields around them, making the nearby flock of birds fly away. 

Silence followed his scream. The only thing she could concentrate on was her own racing heartbeat. 

“Lotraic…” She tried, voice wavering. 

He huffed and let the wagon go, turning his back to her. 

Then, he started walking. 

She was confused for a bit, staying where she was, just watching his figure become smaller, until she realized he was going back in the direction of the town. 

That made her jumpstart into action, running after him. 

“Lotraic!” She called for him, something rumbling on her ears. “Lotraic!” But when her hand reached his arm, he slipped out of her grasp. 

“Don’t follow me.” 

“-but Lotraic-”

“LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!” 

She would never forget what she saw in his expression that day, a sorrow so deep that could rival hers on her worst days during the century she had been a slave to the Dovanos. 

“I lost a leg, not my brain. I don’t need you to hold my hand or to take care of me.” His downcast eyes were the last thing she saw before he turned his back on her again. “Leave me alone.” 

Something lodged in her throat as she watched him walk away. The heavy clouds that had been threatening them the whole day chose that moment to rumble, announcing the future weather. 

Hel didn’t manage to take the wheel from the hole, so she untied the horses and loaded their things on them, carrying the rest on her back. She found the river, and then followed it to a big, sturdy log house. 

She put the horses on a secure shed, dried and fed them before heading to the main house. The rain fell heavier as the night fell, and, once again, she couldn’t help but worry, despite his announcement that she should not. 

The sapphire ring he gave her to wear along the gold band on their wedding night weighed a thousand pounds on her finger as she did her best to air the house and transform the dusty insides into a hospitable place. Like maybe, maybe , he would feel what she was doing from wherever he was and come back. Back home. Back to her. 

The raindrops punished the wooden roof that probably hadn’t seen maintenance in a while. Hel could not differentiate the water coming from the leaks or from her own stupid tears as she placed the newly bought pots and pans to catch the water. 

She did not waste any of their candles, as the light from thunder blaring outside was more than enough for her to see. 

The drow fell asleep curled on the couch, missing her husband like he missed his leg. 

________________________________________________________________________________

He didn’t come back on the following day. 

She made a point in occupying herself to avoid losing her mind to despair. Because maybe Talon had been right. Maybe following their previous dream of living in a big farmhouse and filling it with children was a mistake after the accident. Maybe they should have stayed in the ship with Talon, chasing adventures like usual, to maintain a sense of normalcy to the former pirate and adventurer. She had time, being a dark elf - she still had centuries upon centuries to live. He probably had sixty, seventy years - if that. 

Just the thought broke her heart. 

Yes, she could have waited. She didn’t need to have kids right away - hell, she didn’t need to have kids at all. If he decided to spend his whole life inside a ship, waging war against other pirates, she’d follow him until one of them died. All she needed was him. 

After their last battle, though -the one when the monster they all thought dead rose from its ashes and took Lotraic’s leg away, beyond what they could repair - it felt like a change of air would be welcomed. Tajiiri was back on her guild, having fun teaching her little kittens how to rob rich people blind and maybe bring back some poetic justice to the world; Syllin had married Rylvan and claimed her throne, ruling over the elves with him by her side; and Talon decided to keep his exploration trips with Grubi, often visiting one of his friends or burying himself into libraries with Drodal. 

Finding a home for them sounded like a good thing. Like the right thing to do. 

Thinking about it, though - as she washed their cutlery, pans and dishes, scrubbed the floor, fixed the roof and hung the freshly washed linens on the clothesline outside - maybe that had been the wrong choice. Maybe they should have joined Belit, like she suggested after the wedding party. 

“I’ll even give you two a private cabin.” She said with a wink. Hel liked her. 

As she put things in their places - fresh linens on the newly clean linens cabinet, cutlery on the first drawer of the kitchen, horses fed and into the stable, her sending stones over the fireplace, the painting that Syllin gave them as a wedding gift, featuring their whole little family and friends, beside them - she couldn’t help but notice that the sending stone they had to message Talon wasn’t there. If it wasn’t there, Lotraic had probably taken it with him. Back… to the town where Talon had left them barely a whole day ago. 

Maybe… maybe he had really left her? Asked Talon to come by to get him. Maybe he was already back on the ship, his coins on him, and Tajiiri would send her a message at any hour saying that Talon asked her to tell Hel that Lotraic was with him. That he was leaving. 

Before she registered what had happened, she was dry heaving on the kitchen sink. 

After cleaning that up, she realized she hadn’t eaten all day. Got some herbs on a tea to settle her stomach and ate some of the nuts that Tajiiri insisted she should always have on her. 

She slept on the couch again, rain crinkling outside, the firewood crackling beside her, providing her with the warmth that her body did not seem able to conjure on its own. 

Her last thought before falling asleep was at least I fixed the roof right.  

_________________________________________________________________________

Hel had been fighting, and losing, with a recipe for caramel cookies that was supposed to be easy, goddamn it Tajiiri, this is not easy at all, when she heard the noise of a wagon approaching. 

She quickly put on her Ring of Alter Self, disguising her appearance as of a high elf, and ran to the door, a knife hidden against her forearm. 

There was no need for any of that, though. 

He was back. 

“I… I brought the wagon.” He moved, like he couldn’t settle his weight in any of his legs. 

Hel smiled, fighting the - rather unusual - tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “Okay.” She answered. 

“Why the knife?” 

“I thought someone had seen me.” She revealed, holding the knife properly. It was just a kitchen knife. Nothing like her daggers, safely stored in her - in their room. “I haven’t been wearing the ring when I’m inside the house. Thought I could downplay it to a trick of the light or something.” 

He nodded his understanding, still looking uncomfortable. “It looks good.”

“Huh?”

“The house.” He looked around, from the shed she had cleaned, to the clothes drying on their lines. “It looks… looks good.” 

Hel nodded, appreciating her hard work. She was sure, though, that in the end, he’d have put way more effort into the property than her. 

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice until he said it. “Were you, maybe… trying to cook something?” 

Then she smelled it. The something burning . 

“Oh, by Helix,” She cursed and ran inside, taking the dried out caramel out of the stove. “Fuck!” 

She heard a deep chuckle behind her, the one that got the hairs on the back of her neck to stand to attention, and soon enough there were arms around her waist as he hugged her from behind, curving his non-negligible height so his chin would drop on her shoulder. “You gotta start again, love.” 

“Damn.” She cursed again, melting against him. It felt so good, so warm, no armor between them. “I was craving those.”

She felt his hum rumbling from his chest to her back. A few moments passed and she placed a hand on his hair, holding him close, too, the other over the hand he had on her belly. 

“I’m sorry.” His voice sounded like the first winds of autumn. 

Hel Vhondryl-Jones smiled and closed her eyes, trusting him to hold her up. “Welcome home.” 

______________________________________________________________________________

The following days were still not easy. 

Things were tentative between them as he noticed the things she had already done without him, and the things he could no longer do with the prosthetic leg. 

Sometimes he would be carving out wood, staring at the horses longingly as they ran free around the homestead. Other times he would blow up in screams, breaking whatever was in front of him and stomping out to go drink, as she found out during a trip to buy seeds, at the town’s Tavern. 

She could not judge him, though. The mourning process, she knew, was a delicate thing. He lost too much already, the leg was just the cherry on the cake. 

She would just have to wait for time to do its thing. Stay by his side and make it a home for him to come back. Clean, put medicine and let it heal. 

Rinse and repeat. 

_______________________________________________________________________

The thing was, it was becoming difficult to hide. 

Switching her tea and her clothes was justifiable - it was a new place with new rules, she did not need the skin tight suit underneath an armor anymore, so sturdy, reliable linen in comfortable cuts seemed more fitting for the new lifestyle. 

The other things, though… it was getting harder and harder. To the point where she felt a little relieved every time he left the house - not only because of anger fits anymore, but also to buy supplies at the town, always promising with the sweetest kiss to come back home. 

It was not time yet. 

That secret she had to hold on her own. 

______________________________________________________________________________

She knew he noticed some things - they slept together, after all - but he did not say anything, perhaps having learned not to comment on a woman’s figure from Tajiiri’s advice. Or he didn’t care. 

“Hel, are you sure this is the right tea?” 

Damn it. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” She dismissed, placing some - admittedly, not perfect, but she was improving - butter upon the bread. 

He sniffed the kettle. “It doesn’t smell like your usual tea.” His footsteps followed back to the kitchen table. “Didn’t you maybe mix them up?” 

“I’m the herbalist. I’m pretty sure I would have noticed if I had mixed my teas, Lotraic.” Sure, maybe that sounded harsher than it should. She didn’t mean to snap. He just had to stop prying , for Helix’s sake. 

“Hel, I’ve seen you take that tea a thousand times. Your breath always smells and tastes of it in the morning.” Lotraic insisted. “I know what it does, too. I asked Syllin and she told me.” 

Fuck it. “It’s just a variation, alright? There are many teas that do the same thing. I just got the regional variation.” 

“And are you sure that’s working?” He looked dubious. 

“Do I look pregnant to you?” Hel could feel sweat sliding down her back. 

“I mean, you have gained weight.” He shrugged, like it meant nothing. “And now you changed your tea, I mean. I’m just trying to understand what’s going on-” 

“Stop trying, then!” She stood up, anger bursting through her chest like a freight dragon, fear threatening to clog her throat completely. “You’re never around anyway, always drinking in town, Helix knows doing what else! Maybe you should worry a little more about not becoming an alcoholic and less about my waistline!” 

It was like a crash and she couldn’t shut her eyes to avoid watching it. 

Hel turned her back to him and ran. She ran on blurry eyes, unable to see anything, until her bare feet felt the wet dirt that signaled that she was near the stream west of their house. 

The drow fell to her knees and dimly realized that she hadn’t taken her Ring, walking around looking like the enemy, while she puked on the grass. 

Once it was over, large hands guided her by the waist to the water, helping her wash her mouth and her face. 

Hel had no strength to fight back as Lotraic held her close across his body, sitting on a nearby rock. He cradled her a little like a child, which almost made her want to vomit all over again. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He sounded resigned, hurt. And it wasn’t fair that his chest was the only thing she had to lean on to hide her tears. 

“Our wedding night.” Her voice scratched its way out of her throat. “I was so excited and nervous about everything… I forgot.” She curled into herself. “I’m sorry.” 

She was sorry, because she had been a mistake, and then tried to fix it with other mistakes, taking him along. She was sorry, because now he was tied to her by obligation, losing his esteemed freedom entirely, just because one morning she forgot to take her tea. 

“That’s… almost five months.” He looked confused. 

“Four months and two weeks.” She agreed. 

“But… you’re not…” He made a move with his hand and she rolled her eyes. 

“I’m pregnant with a half-elf. The pregnancy lasts more than a normal human’s, so the child develops slower.” Hel propped herself up a little. “That means my body will also change at a slower pace. I suppose I barely look pregnant at all by human standards.” 

“You did gain a little weig-” 

She slapped his chest, standing up. 

“That doesn’t answer, though.” He adopted a more serious tone once again. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Hel sighed, her back to him as she tried to gather her wits about her. 

“At first, it never seemed like the right time... I only found out after that beast took your leg.” She said, not mincing around with words. He wouldn’t appreciate it anyway. “Then you were healing, physically and mentally…  I didn’t want to burden you with this, too.”

She could hear him standing up behind her. “And now?” 

Hel shrugged. “Now… now I was afraid that it would make you stay.” 

“But… I’m here.” 

“Yes.” The drow agreed, staring at the stream as if that could lend her some peace of mind to say her truth. “But I thought maybe you didn’t want to be. That maybe you wanted to go back to Belit, or to adventure with Talon, I don’t know…” Hel bit her lip and walked forward, letting her feet be submerged into the clear water. “I didn’t want to make you feel obligated to stay, especially when you were so fragile. If your healing wasn’t here with me… then I wished for you to go and be happy wherever that was.” 

“How-” 

She turned, the traitorous, possibly hormonal, tears, falling from her eyes, sliding down her cheeks. “I know you love me, but I’m also a realist. Maybe what you need to heal isn’t me. Maybe what you need is to go back to Belit’s crew and find your strength again. Maybe what you need is to explore the world and protect Talon and Grubi from whatever they find in their path to knowledge.” She shrugged. “I’m pregnant and ready to settle down, but it’s fine if you’re not there yet. I’ll live probably for five, six hundred more years; your son or daughter has two hundred years ahead of them. I’m sure we can both wait for you to visit.” She wiped her eyes with her hands. “Just… I love you. Whatever you need, please, know it’s okay. I’ll be fine. The important thing is for you to be happy.” Hel smiled through the tears, sincere. 

“You’re an idiot.”

To say that she was stupefied was a gross understatement. 

“What?” 

“You’re an idiot.” He repeated slowly. “It’s the only explanation.” 

Hel hesitated, at a loss of words. “W… why?” 

“How can you think that I could ever be happy without you and that baby?” Lotraic shook his head, looking confused. “You gotta be an idiot.” 

Something rushed on her ears, good and bad, twisting her insides, tearing her apart. 

“Or maybe…” His feet shuffled on the grass as he came closer and enveloped her in a hug from behind. “Maybe I made you feel that way. And, for that, I’m sorry.” 

The drow felt like crumbling, sugar underneath raindrops. “It’s… it’s alright-”

“It’s not, and I’m sorry. I screwed up.” He admitted easily. “I snapped so much and left you so many times to go drink my sorrows away that I made you think I could ever leave you. That’s unacceptable.” 

He turned her to face him, holding her chin gently. 

“Ever since I lost that leg, I have been feeling useless. Don’t start-” He interrupted her protests. “But all I ever knew that I was good at in life was fighting. And I know there are a lot of great fighters with peg legs, especially in the seas, but I would have to relearn everything, from my balance to my strength… I just felt so weak and helpless. And, worst of all, I couldn’t protect you anymore.” 

She nodded, remembering nights upon nights of bruises forming on her then tender skin, bruises that the Dovanos did not care about. Remembering how lonely and helpless she felt. No one would intercede in her favor. There was no way out. 

“I know.” She nodded, wiping her face with her hands once more. The tears just wouldn’t stop flowing. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. I’m so sorry I didn’t see it, I could have-” 

“Stop. Nobody could have done anything. Even I, who was right in front of the thing, thought it was dead.” He shook his head. “But yes, it sucked. And yes, I lost my center. But there was always you. Talon helped, and the others, too, but you… the thought of a future with you was the only thing that kept me going.  And while I screwed up in showing that, I promise that I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.” 

She nodded and put her hands over his as they settled on the small bump on her belly. 

“I know I don’t understand what you’re going through, and it can’t be easy.” She said. “I know you feel pain and I don’t always know how to deal with it. I feel like sometimes I’m too dismissive, sometimes I think ignoring reality is the best option, sometimes I do want to put you inside a bubble and protect you from everything at all costs.” Hel sighed. “In trying not to hurt you, I feel like I hurt you the worst.” 

“To be honest, nothing you say or do could make it better.” Lotraic admitted with a sigh. “And I did take it out on you, too.” 

The drow nodded, letting her head bow forward. His nose followed the trail of her head, settling on the nape of her neck. 

“We’ll pull through this, right?” She bit her lip. “My lie, your loss. Do you think we’ll pull through? “ 

“We will.” He held her closer, careful now that he knew she was with child. His child. Her child. “And no matter how pissed off I am, I promise not to run off again.”

“It’s okay. I know where you are  when you go out, now.” Hel shrugged. 

“It’s not.” The human insisted. “You might need me. You’re pregnant.” 

“I’m pregnant, not sick .” 

He grinned. “I could say the same.”

The grey sky didn’t change color, the stream didn’t suddenly switch directions. But they witnessed as the couple held each other, and held each other together, for years yet to come. 

“So that new tea was…” 

“Shush.” She slapped his hand lightly. “I know my herbs, alright. Don’t ruin the moment.” 

His chuckle reverberated behind her and she couldn’t help but smile. And, really, that’s why she married him, above all. 

Of all people, he was the one who never failed to make her smile, even when he wasn’t even trying. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Lotraic never left the house to go on a drinking rampage again. 

And Hel understood that he most likely wouldn’t again. 

He hadn’t left in the first place because he didn’t love her. It was just that a drop of extra love was needed to push him back to his feet, wooden one included. 

She couldn’t fault him for that. 

And, in the end, she was happy to deliver. 

______________________________________________________________________________

“Do you think it’ll be a girl?” His voice broke the comfortable silence, a few months later. The rain had turned into snow and the house had transformed with treated furs and fires everywhere as he went back to treating the tender skin of his amputated leg with the salve that she never stopped making. 

She pushed her heavier body to the side, letting his chest slot behind her back. Always the perfect fit. “I don’t know. The town women say that when the belly is pointed forward, then it’s a boy, but I’m not sure that’s true.” 

“But you know these things, right?” His hand caressed her belly, trying to find that spot that made the considerable bump in her belly to move against him. “You knew what tea to take and all.” 

“I know some things.” She agreed. “Enough, at least.” 

He nodded, bearded chin messing with her hair as he moved. 

“So…. what are we naming them?” He asked. “If it’s a boy?” 

“I don’t know.” Hel chuckled. “What about Grubi?” 

“Oh no.” She laughed at his tone. “But there’s an idea. Lotraic Jones the second.” 

She rolled her eyes. “No.”

“Why not? It’s an amazing name, I’ll have you know!” 

“Yes, for you .” She agreed. “I wouldn’t want people to project the expectations they have on me onto the child as well. Remember, our kid will be a being of its own. Our job is just to take care of them and let them bloom on their own. To find out who they are along with them.” 

He hummed. “Yeah, alright. I like that.” Lotraic agreed. “But we still don’t have a name.” 

“Well, it’ll be half human.” She reminded him. “So what about a human name?”

“Human names are boring.” He said, making her laugh. “Oh.”

And she’d never get tired of the childlike fascination on his face every time he felt the little bump move inside her belly, responding to his voice. 

Hel smiled back, twisting her head to kiss him on the lips. “How about Rocky?” She suggested with a smirk. “We could finally have the Rolling Stones.” 

His eyes shone with untold mirth. “So we’re having that many children, huh?”

She hummed. “If you play your cards right… maybe.” 

He moved, settling himself carefully on top of her - something she took a long time convincing him that he could do and that it wouldn’t hurt her or the baby -, smiling that lewd smile that had her insides clenching in anticipation. “Good thing I always play my cards right then, huh?” 

Hel smiled and pulled him to a kiss, urging that night never to be over. 

________________________________________________________________________________

It wasn’t like they didn’t fight. They did. 

They fought about baby names. She got jealous over a girl in town that started to show up randomly, cleavage getting bigger and bigger, with the pretense of getting to know her neighbors and then learning how to wood carve . 

They fought about taxes, and what of their products should they sell - Lotraic said to sell the batches that went wrong, Hel argued that no one would buy those. They fought about who would feed the horses during snowy days and why should she be the one to cook for them when she was so bad at it anyway? 

They fought. And each time they fought, his eyes would turn to the still broken wagon placed on the side of the house. 

“Don’t.” Hel warned him each time. “I have plans for that.” 

“What’s the use of a wagon that can’t, you know, be a wagon ?” He protested each time. 

“You’ll know.” Hel chastised. “You can always get another one. It’s not like we don’t have savings.” 

“Why would I spend our savings in a wagon if we already have a wagon? ” Lotraic insisted, angry.

She sighed and finished hanging the last of the linens on the clothesline before walking to where he was sitting beside the door on a downturned fruit crate, peg leg on a straight angle on the dirt as he carved a wood figurine, and bent down to kiss him. 

“I have plans for that wagon.” She repeated firmly. “Get a new one.” 

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yes, ma'am." 

She arched both eyebrows at him in defiance. “It’s mrs Jones for you, sir.” 

The stupid smile that bloomed on his face was worth the dumb jab. She smiled her way back into house, a hand over her belly. 

It was almost time for him to understand.

_________________________________________________________________________

The birth was long and painful, but it was entirely too rewarding when she saw the tiny crying face nestled to her chest by the doula, who was thankfully blind as a bat, because Hel hadn’t had the mind to put the ring on during labor. 

A few weeks later, as recommended by the woman who helped her in her delivery, Hel started working on the wagon while Lotraic tended to the child. She found it amusing that he could barely hear the baby cry before rushing to pick it up -  and he would have to do that quite a lot the following weeks, because she had a project, and she would see it through. 

First, she sanded and repainted the wagon. Then, with his help, she lowered the wheels into the ground a little, so the top of the wagon reached her hips, and filled it with dirt. 

Then, at the town, she started placing the orders. 

The seeds came from everywhere, and some people from town started to come around to see the plants she was cultivating. Red poppies for Grubi, fiery and delicate, black dahlias for Talon, mysterious as he was; orchids for Syllin, the absolute beauty, tiger lilies for Tajiiri, for obvious reasons. Then, a couple of blue irises for her parents, helleborus for Rylvan, a few gerbera’s for Talon’s parents, chrysanthemum for Ivellois, pink petunia for Rashima, blue sea holly for Belit. 

Next, she got dragon flowers for Anigosa and Smaug, a white and a red rose for Helga and Vondall, white begonia for Van, pink for Kidd, red for Magus, nemophila to represent Fargo and his gang and primula for Polly, because she deserved it - plus some azalea for Norris and his crew, cause they were nice guys. Brighthammer was represented by diabolo ninebark and Drodal by a viola Molly Sanderson. Richard was a classy tulip, tillandsia cotton candy for Kiki and for her parents, colorful hyacinthus. She also spread some daffodils, one for each of the people who had fallen at Sacred Sky Island. 

And, of course, a single potato for Toddy. 

Behind it, Hel planted an oak tree, which grew bigger and bigger with a little help of a few magical things - sturdy, heavy and reliable, just like Lotraic.. Around the growing flower pot she put baby’s breath and, tying around the wood itself, ficus pumila. 

Underneath it all, carefully outside a toddler’s reach, Hel planted some belladonna. Medicinal and deadly, depending on the dosage. Kind of like her.  

After that was done, she put a cyclamen in the middle, to represent their first son. 

As the years passed, many flowers were added. Astrantia for Syllin’s and Rylvan’s first child; sanguisorba for Grubi’s girlfriend, salvia for Maya, after Tajiiri and her finally tied the knot. Hydrangeas for Helena - Hel still didn’t like her, but she couldn’t really deny her presence any longer, with what she deciding to travel with Talon now -, cosmos for Tajiiri’s first child. 

She got geraniums for her own second child, gambit rose for Syllin’s, bluebell for Tajiiri’s, a big bright sunflower for Talon’s firstborn. Hyssopus, monardas, ajugas, lamiums, saxifraga, aster; in the end, Hel almost lost track of the flowers as the numbers in their family grew and grew. 

“We’ll need another wagon.” Lotraic kissed her cheek as she admired her work, their third child on his arms.

She looked pointedly at him and put a hand on her belly. 

His mouth fell to an ‘o’ shape. “Alright. I’ll get another wagon tomorrow from old Barney’s shop.” Lotraic kissed her. “But. Really?” His hand fell over hers. 

“I could start taking my tea again.” She suggested. “You were the one who asked me not to.” 

“No, no.” He smiled brightly. “I love that this house is always full. Unless… you don’t want to?” 

Hel put herself on her tiptoes and kissed him, hearing with delight their kid’s laughter at the act. She pushed his hair from his face with careful hands and kissed his little forehead too. 

“Let’s fill the house, then.” She took Lotraic’s hand, turning to walk back to the house. “I’ll tell you when I’m done bearing your spawn, mister Jones.” 

“Ay ay, mrs. Jones.” He joked, making silly faces to the little one, who started cackling again. 

On the following morning she woke up to a new wagon placed neatly beside the other one, and a message from Tajiiri that she was preparing to have her third child, and saying that while Talon didn’t say anything, Helena was once again looking round last time they came to visit her. 

She grinned and got the seeds from the bag, taking a deep breath. 

Back to work it was, then. 

_______________________________________________________________________________

Seven years after they moved there, for the first time, Talon came to visit alone.

That night, after being badgered for stories and special smoke effects by every single Vhondryl-Jones child, Talon smoked his pipe silently, waiting for Hel to come back from the kitchen and Lotraic from upstairs, where he was tucking the kids in. 

The drow served them whisky, feeling that the conversation would be tense, at minimum. 

“They’re all asleep, I think.” Lotraic sighed and sank on the couch beside Hel, accepting the drink and the caress to his hair offered by his wife. “So. You came alone, and your kid is barely one.” He pointed out, looking at his friend. “This must be important.” 

“I have a few things that I found in my travels that might interest you.” He said and put the whisky aside, getting his bag. 

Talon placed three things on the table: three big blocks of clay, a weird white stone, and a book. 

“What’s this?” Lotraic asked, frowning. “You know I don’t get this magic stuff.” 

“I found this in Akadia.” Talon started explaining, voice somber. “Took me a while to get everything, but I finally got it.” 

“This clay,” He told them, “Can be molded to become a better replacement for your leg. It won’t be a flesh leg; it’ll be sturdier, but it won’t hurt or slip around, and it can give you a better purchase to move. You’ll feel the surface as one feels skin, and it won’t break easily.” 

Lotraic’s eyes widened. Hel carefully took the glass from his hand and placed it on the table before it fell on the floor. 

“A… a leg?” 

“Yes.” Talon smiled. “It’s a simple enough procedure. We’ll mold the leg with magic to mimic your other leg, place it right and say the enchantment. You’ll have to lay still for about five hours while it settles, but that’s it.” He shrugged. “The bad thing is that you’ll have to re-learn how to use it, because your body is now used to compensate for the peg leg. But… it’s something.” 

She could see Lotraic’s throat working, his eyes becoming shiny, as he worked through the words he wanted to say. “And… and the catch?” He wiped his eyes quickly with his hands, before the tears ran down on his skin. “There’s always a catch with these things. 

“It’s necromancy.” Talon, as always, spoke plainly. “That means we’ll need to trade life for it. Specifically, about eight months of someone’s life.” 

“Of course.” Hel spoke without thinking. She had over six hundred years still to live, many of them would be without Lotraic; what were eight mere months? “Anything.” 

When she looked up, though, Lotraic was staring at her with a stern expression. 

“I don’t accept the trade.” 

The first time he said those words, she was moved. 

Now, Hel was just annoyed. 

“It’s eight months. I have almost a thousand years to live.” She stood up, annoyed, stubborn. “I’m doing this, whether you like it or not.” 

“No. It’s my leg, it’s gotta be my time.” 

The drow placed both hands on her waist, thankful to see that Talon looked thoroughly unimpressed by their antics, as usual, merely smoking his pipe while watching things unfold. “Eager to get rid of me, are you?” 

“I never said that.” Lotraic sounded frustrated. “But you’re not giving time of your life away for a spell just for me to get back something that I don’t even need .” He insisted, touching her shoulders. “I’ve lived a long time with the peg leg now. I’ll be fine like this.” 

“There’s another thing.” Talon interrupted, leaning forward on the couch. “This book also teaches how to divide someone’s lifespan to share it with another person.” 

“It… what?” 

“Like this,” The half-elf opens the book on a marked page, starting to read. “ This life-transference necromancy spell allows one to share the lifespan of a willing creature with another one. In other words: if an aasimar has a lifespan of approximately 160 years, and decides to share it with a dragonborn, who only lives up to 80, both of those beings would then live for approximately 120 years, apart from unnatural causes of death.” He explains. “When I told Belit this, she said she’d be more than happy to share her years with you, Lotraic. This would give you more time with Hel and the kids.” He shrugged. 

Lotraic’s expression shut off. “Absolutely not.” 

Talon sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Lotraic-” 

“No. I’m not taking years out of anybody’s life just to-” 

“To see your children grow?” Hel provided, her voice a mere wisp of its usual strength. 

He grinded his teeth. “Stop twisting my words!” 

“I prepared your bedroom an hour ago. It’s the first door on the left.” She told Talon, who nodded. “I’m going out for a walk.” 

“Hel…” His words stopped her at the front door. “We promised we wouldn’t run away from each other anymore.” 

“I’m not running away.” She promised, but was unable to look at him. “I’ll just take a walk down the stream to think about things. You two can stay and chat.” She opened the door, taking the scraps from dinner with her. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” 

The drow walked to the stream, as promised, guided by the crescent moon and the stars above her. Sitting on a familiar rock, she spread the scraps for Lotraic’s “trained bears” beside it, knowing they’d come around sooner or later. 

Those bears were not trained in the least, but the female seemed to bear some sort of sympathy towards Hel. That night, after filling her belly with the leftover boar roast, the male left back to the woods, but the familiar female’s face stayed as she sat behind Hel, sniffing her out. 

The drow offered the bear her hand to sniff, feeling her hairs stand up to the sensation of the animal’s breath upon her skin. Then, a wet snout touched her palm. It took but a moment for her to recognize the gesture and tentatively start to caress the animal’s fur, careful not to make any sudden movements. The bears never attacked Lotraic, going so far as playing wrestle with him, and they never got too close to Hel or the kids, so she wasn’t overly familiar with any of them. She probably smelled of Lotraic for the beast’s sensitive sense of smell, so maybe that counted on her favor, too. 

She knew it was hypocritical of her, but desperation had a grip that felt overwhelmingly strong around her heart, gripping it so tightly, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. 

That was why, a few hours later, Hel snuck back into the house and grabbed the three precious things that Talon - most likely intentionally - had left on the living room table. 

It wasn’t right, she knew. She was making decisions for him, taking his choice away, clearly overstepping boundaries that they so carefully crafted together with years of coexistence, risking unraveling a love that was weaved into the fabric of her soul. 

It was wrong. And she hadn’t messed with more than herb magic for a long, long time - especially not necromancy, not ever since breaking her pact with Helix.

For that night only, though, she got on her knees and prayed for him, just before opening that book and getting started. 

In that case, she would rather have three hundred years to beg for his forgiveness than to live with him for another sixty and regret not doing this for the half of a millennia that she would have to endure without him. 

__________________________________________________________________________

She expected it. 

She expected him to be fuming  when morning came, still adjusting to the new leg as he came downstairs. 

She expected the cold look, the anger, the flipped table. She expected him to stomp his way out of the house and to go throw rocks or fight something with his bare hands in the woods. 

She expected him not to talk to her, although he spoke to Talon and the kids just fine. She expected the kids to ask, and crafted a simple and truthful explanation that mommy had messed something up, and that daddy was right to be mad at her. She did something without asking, and was being punished for it. 

She didn’t exactly expect him to take his things and start sleeping in the shed with the horses, but she should have. She also did not expect weeks of not talking to her to unfold into months of barebones interactions between them. 

Deep sorrow clawed her chest from the inside out as his eyes switched from angry to empty when they met hers. It deepened more when she saw him talking to a town lady - a beautiful woman, with fair skin and deep black locks, always wearing some light-coloured gown and a xhale over her shoulders - a couple of times. That couple of times turned to every day, as the woman came to supposedly hire Lotraic to carve some of her furniture, and he started going to her house every day. 

But Hel couldn’t help but notice how his shoulders relaxed and his face melted around the woman, who always smelled of chamomile and freshly baked fennel bread. His smile was as sincere around her as it was around the kid’s, like she brought some peace back into his troubled heart. 

She didn’t resent the woman, nor did she resent Lotraic. 

After all, she had made that bed herself. 

All she could do was lay on it. 

_________________________________________________________________________

The panther tabaxi put her cup of tea down. Hel could feel her friend’s watchful eyes upon her face, noticing the things that she, herself, avoided to see every day: the bags underneath her eyes, the lines marking the downturned shape that her lips seemed to have permanently adopted. 

She looked older and uglier by the minute. Hel was pretty sure the town’s children had been calling her a hag behind her back for quite some time now. 

“Spill.” Tajiiri said simply, staring at her. 

Hel shrugged. “What do you mean?” 

“Come on. We’ve been friends for over a decade now.” Her clawed fingers clinked on the kitchen table’s wood. “I know something’s bothering you. Tell me.” 

Hel knew she didn’t have the right to cry, or complain, or anything - still words started flowing from her lips at the same rate as tears flowed from her eyes. 

Once she was done, she grabbed a napkin and wiped her face, watching as her best friend’s face turned into deep consideration. 

“Alright, so I won’t say what you did was right. But I understand.” She nodded, offering Hel a hand for her to hold, which was accepted. “I don’t understand two things, though.”

“Shoot.” Hel said, interlocking their fingers for support. 

“First: do you think he’s cheating on you?” 

The drow considered it for a moment. “No, I don’t think he’s doing anything. I think that if he decides to do something, he’ll break things off with me first. Lotraic is an honest man above all else.” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “But I do think Rosalyn has a pull on him, and he may be feeling something for her. And I can’t blame him.” Tears started falling again and she rushed to wipe them. “ Or her. She has been a balm to his soul in this turmoil. He actually smiles at her, like, nice, honest smiles.” She bit her lower lip. “I couldn’t take that away from him, not after what I did.” 

“Alright, second question.” Tajiiri’s voice garnered a harder tone. “Who are you and what have you done with my badass friend?” 

Hel halted. “W...what?” 

“Well, yes, because I’m sure that my badass, independent, strong friend has been replaced by some wispy, weak-willed woman.” The tabaxi said, not mincing her words. “What the hell is happening here? Why aren’t you fighting for him?” 

“How can I fight for a man that I hurt so deeply?” She tried to argue. 

“To hell with that.” Tajiiri frowned. “You’re soulmates. You two were made for each other. You haven’t even been with anyone else before! He was your first! It's a fairytale story, and you’re letting it slip through your fingers, girl!” 

Hel let her eyes fall, let her chest sink. “I… I don’t know what to do.” She confessed in a small voice, recognizing the truth in her friend’s words. She had… given up, somehow. Stepped too deeply into the role of a mom-slash-housewife and completely buried the warrior that lived inside of her, not even building her the proper sacred ground to rest. 

“That’s why I’m here, my friend.” Tajiiri smiled brightly, troublemaker written all over her cattish face. “I have just the thing. It’ll be great.” She cupped Hel’s hand warmly. “Let’s get your man back. And if he doesn’t come, well…” She shrugged. “You can always try Brighthammer again, right?” 

Hel couldn’t help but laugh, feeling somewhat appeased, a little seedling of hope finding a fertile corner of her heart to bloom. 

______________________________________________________________________________

Tajiiri’s idea was somewhat simple. Hel was supposed to put it to trial after she left, leaving careful instructions behind. 

Okay, so what you’re going to do is that you’re going to drop this mom act for a bit. I know you got a lot of kids, but you gotta remind him that you’re also a woman, you know? And a strong one at that. So go on and get him! 

The plan was… fairly dangerous, to be honest. 

Ever since the end of the war and the peace treaty - she was quite sure that both Syllin and Talon had a hand on that somehow, but whatever - it was legal and encouraged for the population of Grumbar and Kossuth to mingle and interact, and discrimination of any kind had been outlawed, as a sign of diplomacy between the continents. 

Still, a law alone wouldn’t change an entire continent’s behavior from day to night, so what she wanted to do had to be done carefully, oh-so-very-carefully , with a pinch of magic to help. 

She walked into town as her drow self for the first time that day, alone, a bag of memory powder attached to her hip. 

Hel just carefully browsed through some shop’s windows, staying outside at all times, just gathering people’s reactions. They looked - of course they looked, she couldn’t fault them for looking. Most of them probably never saw a drow before - but no one seemed hostile towards her, merely cautious or curious. 

On her second try, the drow entered a store and despite the shock of the owner, was able to easily buy some herbs, no questions asked. 

On the third try, Roberta made chit chat with her while she drank a beer at the Tavern, even including her in a conversation with Jared and John, who made an effort to make jokes and include her in conversation. 

And so on, she would sneak out of the house two to three times a week and change her clothes and appearance to show up in town as a drow, allowing them to get used to her without linking her to her children or Lotraic. 

Because Tajiiri was right. This hiding and pretending to be something else had been slowly killing her, just like the months she had to wear the ring and the hat without rest in the first months of their adventures. It slowly ate away her identity and thus, her confidence, making her feel like her actual self was ugly or unacceptable somehow. 

And then one of the town’s children - little Jason, who she had treated for a sore throat just last week back at the house, using her Ring of Alter Self to look like a high elf, like always - ran from their mother and latched onto her leg, looking up at her adorably. “Mrs. Jones, why are you black?” He asked innocently. 

And, fuck. Of all the ways she thought she’d be outed, that was not one of them. 

“Jason, come back here!” His mother chastised him, walking towards them. “I’m sorry, miss, I’m not sure what’s gotten into him-” 

“It’s okay, mom,” He said, shrugging. “It’s mrs. Jones. She’s just black now, but it’s her. You told me to trust her and take the medicine, remember? And now my throat doesn’t hurt anymore.” He smiled, talkative as always. “Thank you, mrs. Jones! But, like, why are you black?” 

Tiana’s eyes widened as she took on the similarities, and Hel steeled herself. 

She knelt down before Jason, hand cupping his cheek, the same soothing motion she did to calm him down that the exam would not hurt, she would just get a look at his throat to see what was happening. “Well, Jason… it happens that I’ve always been black. You know, I was born at Grumbar, and this is what most elves born there look.” 

“You look cool.” Sakura, a four-year old said, and Hel noticed that the occurrence was gathering a lot of attention around, mostly from the children. 

No going back now, apparently. 

“So… you’re really mrs. Jones?” Jason’s mom asked, voice trembling. 

Hel stood up, sighing. “I’m… sorry. I’m sorry I lied for so long. You have been nothing but kind to me all these years, but I thought…”

“It’s alright.” It was Roberta’s hand over her shoulder that did her in, opening up the floodgates for her tears. “We understand. And whoever doesn’t, we’ll make sure that they keep it to themselves.” 

And Hel was taller and older than Roberta, but the hug that the woman gave her made her feel like a child weeping on her mother’s bosom, even after all these years of being a mother herself. 

“Come on, let’s gather the folks and have some tea in the tavern. My treat!” She ushered them efficiently as more people gathered to see just what the hell was happening. 

“Can we have cake, too?” Little Jason asked, earning a flick to the ear by his mother. 

“I still have some that mrs. Jones here sold me yesterday at the fair.” Was her answer. “I could never identify exactly what you put in that cake that smells so good . Maybe that’s also a secret you’d like to reveal?” 

“Over my dead body.” She said, earning the laughter of the folks around her. “It’s my friend’s recipe. She would kill me if I passed it around, but I can ask her next time she comes to visit.” 

“The tab-... tabax-” Sakura tried, twisting her tongue. 

“My cat friend.” Hel facilitated it for her. “Yes, her.” 

“Why did you hide that your skin is black, mrs. Jones?” Children and their childlike innocence. It reminded her so much of her own children. 

“You see, a long time ago there was a war between my continent and yours. And whenever there’s a fight, people always think the other side is the bad guy, right?” She explained, carefully gathering through the moms’ eyes if she wasn’t speaking of anything untoward. Nobody stopped her, so she continued. “But in a war, everybody is usually a little wrong, and a little right, just like in a fight.” 

“So people from here thought you were the bad guys, and people from where you were thought we were the bad guys.” The kid surmised. “But everyone was sorta right, and sorta wrong.” 

“Exactly.” She agreed. “And some people - those who remember the war the most - end up thinking that everyone born in the other continent is a bad guy, and sometimes they treat them and their children badly, you see. So I hid who I was because I was afraid of being mistreated, and then because I was afraid that my kids would be mistreated, if people knew that I was from another continent.” 

“I see.” The kid said, all young wisdom. “And you have a lot of kids. So you were just protecting them, right? Like mom does when she tells me not to play in the rain, because I might catch a cold or get a sore throat and end up needing to take that medicine you gave me, which works, but is a little bitter.” 

She chuckled, placing a hand on top of Jason’s head. “I’ll add some more honey next time you need it, kiddo.” 

“Now, away with you kids, the grown ups have to have a serious conversation.” Jason’s mom clapped her hands, ushering them all outside to play. 

Jared sat close to her, as did John, both closer to her than most. 

“So… what prompted the big reveal?” Roberta asked, handing her a cup of tea and serving a few more. 

“I was… getting lost in the lie, you know? Pretending to be someone else, it was eating away my confidence. My friend helped me realize that.” She fiddled with her cup, staring at the tinted liquid. Arnica and hibiscus, she knew. A blend that she made for herself more than once. 

“Does that perhaps have anything to do with the work that your husband has been providing Rosalyn with?” The woman asked, getting straight to the point. 

She couldn’t help but avoid those sharp eyes. “I don’t blame them. I messed up pretty badly, you see.” Hel stared at her black fingers. “I broke his trust. He’s been mad at me for quite a while, and rightfully so. And she…” The drow swallowed dry. “She makes him smile.” 

“Well, if you ever decide to break it off, my son needs a good wife.” John uttered with a deep belly laugh. “He’s handsome. You’ve seen him around.” 

“You do know that I’m over a hundred years old, right?” She smiled at him. 

“Even better, my grandchildren will live a long time. It’s a blessing.” The old man placed a comforting hand on her back. “I know that husband of yours isn’t a bad man, but if he keeps being angry at someone who loves him like you visibly do, dear, then he’s a fool.” 

“Well, maybe now that he’ll be back seeing you in your true skin, he’ll remember what he loved about you in the first place, right?” Roberta suggested, putting another kettle on the stove. 

Hel smiled. “If he doesn’t, at least I will.” She nodded her agreement. “I think that’ll be enough for now.” 

“Well, folks in this town were mostly unaffected by either wars, and you played your cards right showing up here every other day, letting people get used to having you around.” John patted her back before sitting on his stool. “If anyone is hostile to you or your kids, they’ll pay the price for it. We like you, mrs. Jones.” 

“I like you too, John.” Her smile grew. “And, whatever happens, I’ll be sure to keep providing you with that arnica cream for your arthritis.” 

“Arthritis? Me?” He huffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m a young stud!” 

Hel laughed, feeling thankfully welcomed by those people. The risk had paid off, and she could return Tajiiri’s memory powder to her. 

Now, for part two… she hoped that worked, too.

_______________________________________________________________________

She almost didn’t notice him the next time she was in town. 

The older kids were playing by the wagon just at the entrance of town under the watchful eyes of John. The younger ones followed her, two on her shoulders, laughing; one she took by the hand, holding the crate of plums with her other arm. 

“Lemme help you with that.” Jared, looking uncharacteristically put together, got the crate from her arm, which allowed her to hold one of the kids with her now free arm, instead of on her shoulder. 

“Thank you, Jared.” She said and chuckled along with little Seren as the man made silly faces to make her laugh. 

“Those plums look amazing. I’m sure they’ll sell themselves in no time at all.” He told her, and was that… hair gel? 

“That’s what I hope.” She told him and accepted the coins he handed her. “Thank you, Jared.” 

“Oh no, thank you , mrs.” He did an elaborate bow and kissed the back of her hand, taking the chance to tickle Seren as well. “See you in two days?” 

If the drow could have blushed, she would have. What the hell was Jared doing ? “Like always.” Her voice trembled a little and she turned to leave as quickly as possible. 

And that was when she saw him, gaping at her while holding his toolbox from what she knew was Rosalyn’s house. 

The woman herself came out through the door and placed a hand tenderly on his arm, all smiles and sweetness, until his attention was back on her. 

“Hold on, kids.” She told her little ones and strode back to the wagon, eventually, with John’s help, being able to get them all settled into the wagon so they could go home. 

That very night, as the kids were washing up to go to bed, he came stomping his way into the kitchen, looking nervous and angry . 

Well. It was better than the emptiness of before, at least. 

“What was that?” He demanded. 

She never stopped the crochet lining she had been stitching on a dish towel. “That what?” 

“That, today.” Lotraic insisted. “You were in town without the ring.” 

“Yes, well. Tajiiri advised me on some matter and I decided, with her aid, to reveal to the townsfolk my real form. So, you know, my children stop confusing humans with me, and asking me why I’m white when I’m outside of the house.” She explained calmly. “Everyone was very accepting, so I refrained from erasing their memories. The end.” 

“The end? That was dangerous!” 

“More dangerous than throwing a rock into the lake of an Aboleth?” 

“You could have been stoned to death, our kids could have been harassed and harmed by this. Are you insane?” 

“I went alone, let them get used to me, and had memory powder on me in case it went wrong. I would not risk the children on a whim, Lotraic.” 

He knew that, but somehow, didn’t seem appeased. At all. “And what about that nonsense with Jesse?”

“It’s Jared .” She corrected it immediately. “And he’s a friend.“

“He looks quite close for a friend .” 

Oh, boy. “Like Rosalyn, you mean?” 

His face turned stony. “Don’t bring her into this.” 

“I didn’t bring her into this, Lotraic. You did.” She pointed out. 

“I’m working for her. It’s different.”

“And I sell some of our fruits to Jared a couple of times a week. How is that different?”

“You’re a married woman , flirting with a single man on the street with our children on your back.” Lotraic fumed. “It’s disgusting.” 

She sighed, leaving the stitching aside. “Look. I know I screwed up royally, and apparently there’s nothing that I can do to make you forgive me. And I know you’ve been depressed about this whole ordeal, and Rosalyn has been… good for you.” It hurt to say it. But she had to. “There’s no need to involve the kids in this or anything. We can be civil, and you’re a wonderful father to them. But this whole situation is unsustainable. If you loathe me so badly and… and like her, it’s fine. Just let us be adults about it and break it off so we’re both free to pursue our happiness, alright?” The words tore her from inside out. But that was what she needed to do. Air it out, clean it up, put medicine over everything. Let it heal. 

“So you can pursue Jared , you mean?” He jabbed. 

“If you don’t want me anymore, that’s fine, but don’t blame me for looking for someone who does.” 

She fled the kitchen, but not before seeing the horrified look on his face at her words. 

_______________________________________________________________________________

She resumed life as usual, selling fruits, making herbal medicine, taking care of the children, drinking tea with Roberta and John at the Tavern. 

Jared, apparently, was still set on courting her, albeit awkwardly. 

He held Seren on his arms for her that day, as Hel chose some grapefruit from the crates of his store, one of the few fruits that wouldn’t grow on that part of the land. 

She put them in a bag and turned, only to notice Lotraic’s figure towering on the door of the store, taking Seren away from Jared in a swift move and placing her over his shoulder. 

“How much do I owe you, Jared?” The drow asked him with a friendly smile, opening her little pouch of coins. 

“It’s on the house, mrs. Jones. Not to worry.” He was smiling back at her, but there was something frightened about it. He stood his ground, though, which she had to respect, as Lotraic looked like he would go into a rage fit at any given moment. 

“I’ll pay for it.” His voice came from the door, blunt as the back of his axes. “How much is it?” 

“N-no, mr. Jones, there’s no need. Mrs. Jones - your wife - is a dear friend, I couldn’t possibly-” 

The human hunched his back to pass the door without breaking it or hitting Seren’s head on the top, left a couple of silver coins on the counter - much more than the grapefruits were worth, surely - and turned his back to them, lowering himself to slip out of the store again. “Let’s go.” 

“Dada!” Seren pulled his ears, giggling cluelessly. “Dada!” 

She exchanged a look with Jared, assuring him with a smile that it was okay, and that she was sorry, before following her husband. 

They managed to put the kids on the wagon much quicker than usual between the two of them. The trip to the house was a silent affair, and tired as they were of playing around town, half of the kids were already asleep by the time they got there. 

After tucking the last one in, Hel poured herself a bath to relax. She had been brushing her hair, still wrapped on her towel, when the door opened to reveal Lotraic. 

He entered the room silently and shut the door, locking it behind him. 

A beat passed. She stopped brushing her hair and turned to him, silently watching. 

“I don’t want you to go out with Jared.” 

Hel nodded, processing the words. “Okay.” 

“And I’m sorry I said that you put the kids in danger. I know you wouldn’t do that.” 

She nodded again, acknowledging the affirmation. 

“And yes, you fucked up. You fucked up with things that weren’t yours to mess with. My body, the length of my life, of your life… that wasn’t only your decision to make.”

“I know.” Her tone was somber, honest. 

“But you did it anyway. And it made me… it made me furious , because we promised that we would do this stuff together, but you just went forward with what you wanted and changed my whole life at the cost of yours. It was invasive and hurtful and horrible.” 

“I know.” She answered, clutching on her hairbrush, feeling the tears want to come, but not allowing them to. “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry doesn’t cut it. Do you have any idea how that made me feel? To have you use necromancy to give me three hundred more years to live without my consent? Trading off almost a year of your life just to give me a better prosthetic?” 

No, she didn’t. She shut her eyes firmly, tears escaping them as she couldn’t hold them in anymore. She didn’t know how he felt, and hadn’t cared, either. She had been selfish, and careless, and stupid, Helix, so stupid. 

Still, she didn’t regret it. Not when now she wouldn’t outlive her children, nor him . Not when she saw him betting races with their two eldest to the stream and back, laughing carefree with the new leg firmly attached to his body. Not when their children would not have to miss their daddy so soon. 

“Still.” Lotraic spoke again, snapping her out of her self-loathing. He sighed, sitting on their bed - or what had been their bed a few months before. 

He caressed the linen as if remembering something, and clutched the fabric between his fingers. 

“Still. Seeing that man flirt with you, watching you being friendly with him despite that-” 

“-I told you, he’s a friend. I won’t start being rude with him just because he took a fancy on me-” 

“-seeing all that,” He continued. “That got me angrier than any necromancy spell you have ever done in your life.” 

Hel stopped breathing. 

Was she… hearing right? Was he saying what she thought he was saying? 

He scooted forward, taking one strand of her hair in his hand, toying with it between his fingers, as if reminding himself of what she looked like, what she felt like. “I couldn’t bear to see him touch my woman.” 

The little gasp that left her lips was probably a little overdramatic, but goddamnit if it wasn’t real. 

“I never cheated on you, you know.” Lotraic’s voice brought her back. “With Rosalyn, or anyone.“

“I know.” Hel answered, not a doubt in her mind. 

“I’ll admit I was… close to her. But she wanted things I couldn’t give her. So I said I wouldn’t be working for her any longer.” 

That took her by surprise. “Oh.” 

“Will you… consider stopping seeing Jared, too?” 

“He’s a-”

“A friend, yes, you said that.” He rolled his eyes. “But he’s overstepped his boundaries. You’re married , goddamnit.” 

She smiled, reaching out her hand to cup his face, feeling incredibly relieved that he didn’t shy away from her. “I’ll tell him that I have no interest in him, and that he has to stop trying to flirt with me. Is that alright?” 

“I guess it’ll have to do.” The human grumbled and huffed, earning a chuckle from her. 

Later that night, when he pulled her to his arms to sleep, the woman drew shapeless lines onto his chest, thinking. “I missed you.” 

“Missed you too.” He sounded entirely too awake, perhaps as wired as her, too wired to fall asleep. 

“Will… will we be okay?” 

Lotraic sighed under her, his chest rising and falling underneath her ear. “I don’t know. But I’m not ready to lose you yet.” 

Hel smiled, hiding her face on his chest to hide the happy tears that escaped her eyelids. 

“I’m not ready to lose you, either.” She told him, voice broken by the sobs held inside. 

“Good. I hope Jared knows that.” 

Hel laughed, wiping her tears. “As long as Rosalyn knows it, too.” 

“She does.” His voice sounded more serious as his hand fell on her hair, caressing it. “She knows there’s no one else for me in this world.” 

Hel interlocked their fingers, sighing in relief. “Good. I’m sure that Jared, and everybody else, knows there’s no one else for me either.” 

His kiss, as always, made spring bloom into her chest all at once. 

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Somewhere in Istishia, nestled against her lover and her kittens, Tajiiri Brissa felt a chill coming down her spine - the signal of a plan that worked, despite her never giving her friends the true logic behind the moves advised. 

Score. 

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It was said that the Vhondryl-Jones household was the first mixed-race household of that area for over a hundred years, before more of Grumbar’s people came along. 

It was said that the woman who lived there had dark skin and red eyes, and knew her herbs like nobody else. 

It was said that the man who lived there could take dragons on arm wrestling. 

It was said that everybody in town knew them. They knew their kids, who left one by one to pursue bigger dreams, and knew their love, which allowed them to live together, and to die together. 

Once they were found - side to side on their bed, curled around each other - their children buried them together at the top of a hill inside their property. It was said that whichever couple made their way together to the top of that hill would have an abundance of love through their entire lives. 

The property was open for visitation, but it was never really sold, only rented amongst generations. The tenants were warned about the bears that walked around that area, taught how to feed them and to make friends with them; and weren’t allowed to touch the ever growing number of wagons filled with exoctic flowers, which also became a site for visitation for botanists and curious folks. 

And as whispers became talk and talk became belief, it was said, on centuries of mouth-to-mouth retelling of the story, that Spira and Helix took pity of the lovers and took Hel into their bosom, making her the goddess of the night and the healing herbs, which started to grow abundantly and without prompting around the area that she lived after the drow passed away. It was also said that the bears and the lightning of that area did not attack people, because Lotraic was their lord, and, cradled by the two primordial god’s hands, kept on favoring those lands. 

And it was said that they ruled together over those parts from the afterlife, and that if one was to close their eyes and pay attention, they would feel the couple’s love surrounding their hearts, making it bloom like a kiss in spring; maybe even hear the strings that guided them to the underworld together. 

But, most importantly, it was said that they were happy. 

And that one, amongst all of those other stories, was the truth. 

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