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The sun had just about dipped below the horizon when Rivayn arrived back in the Confederate settlement. Even in the waning light of the evening, Onokoro was abuzz with activity, daresay even more so than during the daylight bells.
“There you are!” Alisaie called as Rivayn approached, wrinkling her nose as he drew nearer. “I’d heard you had been sent to slay sharks, and judging from the smell I assume you’ve done a thorough job of it.”
“Child’s play,” Rivayn agreed with a smile, “but overgrown man-eating sharks are the least of our worries, I’m afraid.”
“I have news as well,” Alisaie returned with a furrowed brow. “Yours first, if you please.”
“I rescued one of Rasho’s men from a Kojin,” Rivayn explained, his eyes flitting around the lone Elezen. “One of the red, I presume, and they’re rounding up Domans for Yotsuyu, it seems.”
“Gods,” Alisaie breathed, taking a shocked step back. “Well, Rasho certainly can’t deny this, of all things.”
“No, he can’t…” Rivayn frowned as his eyes failed to find what they were searching for. “Alisaie, where is Lyse?”
“And on to my news,” she replied with a blush. “She, well… she decided to win over the Confederates in a more… conventional manner.”
“Conventional…” Rivayn repeated, his frown deepening. He had been a pirate, after all. There were several things that could mean, and none of them were good.
“Before I left to find you, she had just challenged a Roegadyn to an arm-wrestling contest,” Alisaie explained, her gaze turning toward a small shack atop Onokoro’s scaffolding.
“That can’t be good,” Rivayn replied, following her gaze. “Can’t imagine the bloke’ll be please when she wipes the floor with him.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Alisaie returned with a hint of a smile. “I couldn’t think of a way to end the farce without violence, so I thought perhaps it best to employ the skills of an expert.”
“I am a retired pirate,” Rivayn reminded her with a grin, “but it was probably a good idea not to cast a bunch of spells on a horde of drunk Confederates.”
“In that case, I’ll speak with Rasho while you fetch Lyse,” Alisaie offered. With a nod of agreement, Rivayn headed up the stairs, leaving Alisaie to tend to the arguably more important business of convincing the Confederacy to aid them.
As Rivayn pushed open the door to the building that Alisaie had indicated, he wondered if he’d given her the easier duty. He all but had to jump out of the way to avoid being crushed by a man easily thrice his size.
“Any other takers?” a familiar voice barked as the man beside Rivayn crumpled to the floor. “I’ll take you all!”
Oh Lyse, what have you done? She stood in the center of the room, surrounded by cheering pirates and more than a few limp bodies. Judging from her posture, it wasn’t only the Confederates who had been partaking of the local spirits.
“Alright, I think we can crown you champion now,” Rivayn told her as he approached, although she seemed disinclined to leave. He ducked as she took a swing at him, laughing as he quickly hoisted her over his shoulder.
“Come on, Rivayn, I could take you too!” she taunted, though she wasn’t fighting him half as much as he expected.
“I’m sure you could,” Rivayn replied, trying hold back a laugh. He turned away from the crowd, letting them see the hapless Scion slung over his shoulder. He imagined she was giving them an ale-addled grin that he deeply wished he could see. “Ladies and gents, your champion!”
There were more than a few drunken cheers as Rivayn carried Lyse out with a minimum of further protest. When he had entered, he worried Lyse had harmed their efforts to woo the Confederates, but now he realized she’d just as likely done the opposite. This diminutive Highlander wiping the floor with a half dozen strapping pirates? That was sure to turn some heads.
“You used to be fun,” Lyse complained as Rivayn silently carried her toward the makeshift accommodations they’d been granted. He ignored the comment, earning a grunt of disappointment from his captive.
Rivayn breathed a sigh of relief as they finally reached the small hut at the edge of the settlement that Rasho had permitted them to use during their stay. The muscles in his legs burned as he pushed open the doors, barely waiting to close them before all but dumping Lyse back onto her own two feet. He was careful to ensure she didn’t immediately tumble over, of course.
It was becoming increasingly clear that she must have agreed to a drinking contest before the sparring contest. He had seen her drunk many times since they’d first met all that time ago in Gridania, but never like this.
The hut only had a pair of bunk beds, and Rivayn had already resigned himself to sleeping on the floor. Once he was sure Lyse wouldn’t fall over, he turned his attention to the lower bed. If he could just get her into it, she’d have plenty of time to sleep off her ale-induced haze.
“Rivayn,” Lyse whined from behind him, drawing his attention back toward his drunken companion. His eyes went wide as he saw her moving toward him and barely had enough time to put a hand up to block what clearly was intended to be a kiss. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat as he felt her lips on his palm, and she grunted again in annoyance.
“You are no fun,” she repeated with a pout after pulling away.
“And you’re not going to remember any of this in the morning, thank gods,” Rivayn mumbled under his breath, realizing she had all but pinned him against the frame of the bunks. He tried to squeeze out, but instead lost his balance. With the weight of her body against his, they both tumbled down onto the bed below.
Well, this was sure a fine mess he’d gotten himself into. If he were a bit bigger this might not have been such an issue, but Rivayn was about the same size as Lyse and she definitely had more muscle on her side than he did. He could probably shove her off, but she seemed more than content just where she was, and he did want to get her to sleep… although becoming her pillow had not been part of the plan.
Lyse wrapped her arm around him, much to Rivayn’s displeasure, and after a moment of considering alternatives he simply gave up. He was trapped, it seemed, and in any other circumstances he might have found the situation ironically pleasant. But this was Lyse.
As her head bobbed up and down on his chest as he breathed, he felt himself chuckle lightly. Who had he become that he was now avoiding kisses from beautiful women? She was his friend, his best friend, he reminded himself, and he didn’t want to ruin that by being himself. But was that really the reason…?
“You’re not going to remember any of this tomorrow,” he repeated softly, running a hand through her hair as she breathed shallowly. She was already asleep, somehow, so Rivayn was well and truly stuck.
He sighed lightly as he reached for the blankets, doing his best to pull them on top of Lyse without waking her. He would have some explaining to do later when Alisaie finally turned in for the night, but for now he was resigned to fate.
Lyse groaned as light flooded in through the cracks in the walls of the dilapidated hut. Her head pounded and her stomach churned. The last thing she remembered was a pint of ale being thrust into her hands, and it didn’t take much imagination to fill in at least part of the rest of the story.
She tried to bury her face into her pillow, but in became increasingly clear it was not a pillow at all. She yelped as her eyes snapped open and fell upon Rivayn’s unconscious form, and she quickly jumped back. Much to her immediate surprise, there was nothing behind her, and she tumbled head over heels off the bed.
Lyse heard a confused laugh from above her. Now fully awake, Rivayn’s head appeared over the edge of the mattress, and the expression on his face made her wish she could disappear into the pile of bedsheets she’d taken with her.
“How you feeling?” he asked with a chuckle as he offered her a helping hand.
“Think I might just stay down here,” Lyse returned, batting his hand away and covering her eyes with her other arm.
“I know that feeling,” Rivayn told her with a laugh, and she could hear him get out of bed and shuffle away. Lyse peeked an eye out as she heard the door shut, frowning as she realized she was now alone in the tiny shack. Gods, where is Alisaie and what will she think? She groaned as a hundred thoughts swirled together in a maelstrom inside her head.
Lyse perked up when she heard the door open again. She could see Rivayn moving toward her with what looked to be a mug.
“Oh, no, no more,” she begged, waving him away as he approached.
“It’s not more ale, I promise,” Rivayn assured her with a laugh. “It’ll help with the headache and the nausea.”
Lyse gave him a cockeyed look, but when he set the cup down on the bedside table and reached a hand out to her, she finally took it. As he helped her back onto the bed, she groaned in discomfort. It felt like her stomach was doing backflips, and when Rivayn once again offered her the mug she happily accepted.
“Don’t ask what’s in it,” Rivayn ordered as her face twisted in disgust halfway through its contents. “It’ll work, though, I promise.”
“Old pirate recipe?” Lyse asked, now looking queasy for an entirely different reason.
Rivayn laughed, taking the now-empty mug and setting it back on the table. “Something like that.”
“So, um, all I remember about last night was that some Confederate challenged me to an arm-wrestling contest,” Lyse said quietly after a moment.
“I’d love to fill in the blanks,” Rivayn told her with a shrug, “but by the time I got there, half the pirates were already on the floor.”
Lyse’s eyes went wide. “You mean I…?”
“You wiped the floor with them,” Rivayn confirmed with a grin. “In fact, you tried to challenge me to a fight.”
“I did not,” she insisted, though the tone of her voice betrayed her doubt.
“Well, you didn’t exactly challenge me,” Rivayn confirmed. “You just took a swing at me when I came to fetch you.”
Lyse buried her face in her hands. “Oh, gods…”
“On the bright side, they gave you a standing ovation when I carried you out,” Rivayn added, though it did nothing to ease the intense wave of embarrassment that threatened to overwhelm her. “You may actually have done more to win them over with your fists than we did with our good deeds.”
“If only Yda could see me now,” Lyse mumbled to herself bitterly after a moment of silence. “What a mess I’ve made of everything.”
“Hey, I’m sure Yda would be proud of you,” Rivayn insisted, reaching a hand up to brush a strand of hair away from her face. Lyse’s breath caught in her throat at the touch of his fingertips, and she hoped beyond hope that he didn’t notice. “I know I couldn’t have done any of this without you here.”
“You’re exaggerating,” she accused, although Lyse couldn’t hide the beginnings of a smile.
“Maybe a little,” he admitted with a smile of his own, “but just because I somehow always get all the credit doesn’t mean I’m the lone hero doing it all on my own.”
“Speaking of which…”
Both of their heads turned to see Alisaie in the doorway, and it felt like they both instinctively and immediately moved a foot apart.
“Rasho has agreed to lend us a boat,” Alisaie continued without skipping a beat.
“I would say clearly I missed something,” Lyse mentioned as a blush rose to her cheeks, “but I guess that’s a bit on the nose.”
“We’re off to the Isle of Bekko,” Alisaie explained. “I can fill you in on the way while Rivayn rows.”
“Wait,” Rivayn immediately objected, “why do I have to do the rowing?”
“Well Lyse certainly isn’t going to do it in her condition,” Alisaie answered, earning a frown from both of them. “Which reminds me. A gentleman in town asked that I tell you that ‘you’re the best he’s ever had.’”
“W– I…” Lyse trailed off, the hue of her cheeks such deep crimson that it could surely be seen from malms away. “We can never come back here again.”
“I’ll go make sure the boat’s ready,” Rivayn offered, as Alisaie tried to hold back a laugh, before quickly excusing him. Too quickly, Lyse thought with a frown.
Her attention turned to Alisaie. “Not a word,” Lyse warned.
“Who do you take me for, my brother?” Alisaie asked with a smile. “Although–”
“Not a word.”
“Fine, I shall keep my counsel to myself,” Alisaie returned with what was certainly an impish grin. “Are you well enough to travel?”
“Of course,” Lyse returned, though she felt far less certain of it than she claimed. She had to admit, whatever disgusting concoction Rivayn had given her had certainly improved her situation, if not curing her entirely of her poor choices.
“Well, in case you take a turn for the worse, I obtained some medicine from Aokumo,” Alisaie explained with a smile.
“Ugh, you’re a life saver Alisaie.”
“And here I thought you said you were fine,” Alisaie returned with a smile.
Lyse laughed. “I am now, but no promises when I stand up.”
“It’s just a wonder you didn’t empty your stomach all over our poor friend last night.”
“Can we just… never talk about last night ever again?” Lyse asked with a wince. After a moment, her face softened. “Actually…”
“By the time I returned, you were both sound asleep,” Alisaie offered, shrugging slightly. “I truly have no idea what transpired, and as you so appropriately reminded me, it is none of my business.”
“Nothing transpired, I’m sure,” Lyse returned with a frown, the frown only deepening as she stood from the bed. Rivayn’s cure-all was good, but not that good.
Alisaie just smiled and gestured toward the door. It was that same kind of smug smile she’d seen on Alphinaud’s face countless times, whenever he thought he knew something no else did. Clearly it ran in the family…
“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Alisaie asked as Lyse all but lumbered toward the door.
“Nope,” Lyse answered honestly, making an expression that was half smile half grimace, “but at least if I need to empty my stomach, I’ll just need to lean over the edge of the boat.”
“Charming,” Alisaie returned with a disgusted look on her face. “Well, shall we go find Rivayn?”
Lyse nodded in agreement, although she was not looking forward to what would undoubtedly be a long, quiet, and awkward trip to the Isle of Bekko. She only hoped Rivayn would find a way to forget everything he’d seen.
He most definitely would not.