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Mollymauk couldn’t remember a rainstorm he’d loved more. Typically a thunderstorm meant one of two things; hastily setting up a tent and then grumpily wringing out your garments with your feet squelching in muddy, soaking boots, or running to take cover in tents that have already been set up and hoping that the wind isn’t strong enough to blow them over. And all circumstances were pointing to this storm being a downer at best. They had just made it to Zedash, and the storm had crept up on them even when they were still camped out alongside the road. They certainly didn’t have any tent cover, and they were chilled and soaked to the bone, exposed and prone to the elements. But while Fjord had pulled on his heavier cloak, and Caleb had hastened to get Frumpkin under the cover of his coat, Molly had shed his heavy outer layer, feeling the heavy drops sting his skin. Something about it felt…different.
“Hey you guys,” Jester had begun, sitting out by the fire next to the cart earlier that morning. “It’s raining!” Sure enough, it was in fact, pouring by the time she said those words.
“Are you sure?” Molly called to her sarcastically, hoping to hear her laugh. He turned his face to the sky, his face pelted unrelentlessly with raindrops. “Have you checked?”
Jester giggled, and Molly smiled. “Yah!” She called back to him, leaping to her feet and making her way to the cart to join him. Molly licked his finger and held it up to the wind, as if to detect some subtle trace of the weather which was now assaulting him and everyone else on the cart.
“Yep, that’s rain,” he announced. Jester gave a hearty laugh, snorting and nearly falling over onto him. Molly laughed at his own joke, satisfied that he’d gotten his desired reaction out of her. It was a game they seemed to play, making each other laugh…with dirty jokes, with silly jokes, with slightly mean jokes. Anything to hear her musical, magical laugh.
That had been just a few hours earlier. The rain hadn’t stopped, but they had been shown around Zadash by a slightly shady gentleman, and they had taken a brief respite in a curious little firbolg’s shop for a few small transactions and a rather hefty trade. The entire time that Jester negotiated for her new, pink haversack, Molly couldn’t help but smile and sigh as he listened to the rain outside. The sound was quite soothing, actually, now that he didn’t have to worry about his shelter blowing over. Even the peals of thunder excited him. Made him want to run out and jump in puddles. Caleb would call him immature, Beau would call him stupid, Fjord might call him strange…maybe Yasha wouldn’t care. But Jester? Jester would join him. Maybe even splash around more than he would. And her face would light up as she kicked muddy water onto his face…and she’d giggle as a bluish-purple blush would come over her face, and Molly’s face would narrow into a determined grin, and he’d chase her through the rain until…
Until what? He’d take her in his arms and kiss her? He’d sweep her off her feet and twirl her around in the air? He wasn’t entirely unwilling to entertain the thoughts. Everyone in the party knew it already; Jester was special. Molly saw it in Caleb’s eyes, even though he might not have put a name to the feeling yet himself. He saw it in Beau’s softening demeanor whenever Jester said something ridiculous and sweet. He saw it in Fjord’s flustered and anxious responses to her flirtations. Molly knew. And gods, did he feel it too. The inexplicable draw to her sparkling eyes, her round, freckled cheeks, her enchanting laugh…why did he start that game with her, anyway? He was falling for her. He was hardly ashamed to admit it. And Molly was no stranger to wooing a fair maiden–or a fair gentleman–but Jester provided a few rather unique obstacles.
She was a teammate. Not the hardest thing to work around. Jester wouldn’t hold a grudge if she wasn’t interested, anyway. She’s too sweet.
She was beloved by everyone who caught her eye. A little more difficult to maneuver. But Mollymauk was nothing if not a charmer, and with his flashy appearance and suave manner he was certain he could stand out amongst her other possible suitors.
But possibly worst of all…Jester Lavorre was a huge flirt. And Molly couldn’t tell who she was interested in; not in the slightest. She could be interested in all of them–or none of them!--or just one of them, but flirting with the others for fun. He couldn’t separate Jester’s play-flirting from her real flirting for the life of him…if he’d seen it at all. Did he even stand a chance?
All of these thoughts bounced around in his head as the party wandered out onto the street, holding their various cloaks, capes, and coats over their heads to shield from the unrelenting rain. “I mean, it’s a pretty nice bag,” Jester continued to muse about her new accessory to anyone who was listening. “It looks like it really holds a lot of stuff!”
“That’ll be a lot of doughnuts tomorrow morning,” Fjord assured her.
“Ja, tomorrow morning, when we’re warm and cozy in our beds at the Leaky Tap,” Caleb huffed. “I’m good and sick of this rain. Let’s get where we’re going, please?”
An idea struck Molly like a slap to the face. He hardly considered whether it would be worth seeing to fruition before the words left his mouth. “Know what? I have a better idea.” He stepped out in front of the group, flourishing his arms. “Why don’t I go get us something hot, maybe something with a little bit of buzz to it, and then we go find the Leaky Tap? I’m sure we’ll be in much better spirits after a nice hot drink. Perfect for an evening like this.”
“I think I saw a cart selling cider a little ways down the street,” Beau offered, putting up her hood. “I’ll go with you.”
“Don’t be too long, please? Frumpkin is miserable.” Caleb huddled himself underneath Fjord’s cloak. “And I’m miserable.”
“Oh, I don’t think Beau can stand it for too long, not a worry,” Molly called after them as he and Beau strolled out into the rain.
“What, the rain, or the company?” Beau snapped at him, rolling her eyes. Molly grinned.
“Who’s to say? Which will break you first?”
“Don’t test me,” she warned, a smirk poking onto her face regardless. “I will snap you in half, twink.”
“I’ve been called worse,” he sighed.
Beau led them to the cider stand, her pace brisk. Molly didn’t trail too far behind, keeping a slower pace but a wider gait, his long legs helping him immensely. They entered the moderately sized line, the smell of nutmeg, apples, and other spices wafting down through the cold sting of the wind to catch their attention. They both sighed, Beau from exasperation, and Molly from exhilaration. He had never had a better idea in his life, he was certain. This was going to taste so good. And he was going to get so drunk.
“How are you so chipper?” Beau sighed, looking slightly up at Molly through her hood. “This weather fucking sucks.”
“I don’t know, to be honest,” Molly replied, wiping the water from his eyes. This did very little in the way of clearing his vision. “I don’t usually love the rain, but this…it could be the bustle of a new city, or just being with the group. A group with a name, now,” he added. “It’s nice to be a part of something.”
“We’ve known each other for like, a week tops,” Beau countered. “But…yeah,” she admitted, her tough exterior dropping only slightly. “It is nice.”
“Or maybe I’m just excited to get drunk out of my mind. You’ll never know.” Molly put his hands behind his head and winked at her. She groaned.
“Fuck, you’re unbearable.”
“And yet you volunteered to come along with me on this journey!”
“Yeah. My mistake.”
By this point, they’d made it to the front of the line. An older halfling woman stepped up a little stepstool to meet their eyes, her arms resting on the counter. She was beaming. “And what can I do for the two of ye?” she asked brightly.
“We’ll need about…nine ciders,” Molly calculated. Beau opened her mouth to hesitate, but Molly had already put down three silver.
“Comin’ right up!” The woman stepped down from her stepstool and began to fill some roughly carved wooden mugs with hot cider.
“We don’t have enough arms to carry nine ciders!” Beau reasoned with him. "And there's only six of us."
“Ah, yes,” Molly smiled as the woman slid nine mugs across to him. Within a few moments, he had downed three of them, the heat of the drink warming his lips and throat, and the alcohol sending the warmth the rest of the way through his body. “How about now?”
“I fucking hate you.” Beau rounded up two mugs in each of her hands and began to head back to the group.
“Oh, wait!” Molly called to her. In the ecstasy of the drink, he’d nearly forgotten. He turned to the halfling woman one last time. “Where could someone procure pastries at an hour like this?”
“Molly, Pumat said that any bakeries would be closed,” Beau tried, making her way back to the stand. Molly turned briefly to face her.
“Can we just…ask? Please?” His tone held just a hint of desperation…the slightest wisp of a plea. Beau immediately caught on.
“I mean…sure. We can ask. Are there any open bakeries?” She asked the halfling, who was back on her stepstool.
“Well, Eventide Confectionary is open twenty four hours,” she offered, pointing them down a nearby street. “They’re just at that street corner, with the purple sign.”
“Thank you ever so kindly,” Molly shook her hand gratefully, leaving an extra silver piece in her palm. “Beau, shall we be off?”
The halfling waved heartily as they headed away. “Thank ye kindly, strangers!”
They made their way just a few steps down the street–-horribly convenient, Molly thought to himself–-to the hand-painted purple door of the Eventide Confectionary. Well worn images of little half eaten goodies were spotted across the wood, and various bells and chimes on many ropes and ribbons adorned the frame and brass doorknob. This place was sure to have some incredible pastries.
As Molly put his hand on the doorknob, Beau decided to call him out. “So. You’re into Jester?” she laid the observation out plainly.
Multiple responses came to Molly’s mind. ‘Of course!’ ‘Have you seen her?’ ‘Maybe I am.’ ‘How badly do you want to know?’ ‘Is it that obvious?’ He settled on a simple, “Isn’t everyone?”
Beau blushed just slightly, clearing her throat. “I mean. Yeah. I guess so. She’s cute. And charming.”
Molly turned the doorknob, still facing Beau as he walked inside the shop. A showman’s grin very quickly melted into a real, full smile. “Oh, she’s captivating.”
Beau snorted, following Molly as he strolled to the half-elf at the counter. “That bad, huh?” she muttered under her breath. Molly tossed his head, sending one of his horn adornments around to slap Beau across the face, followed by a spray of water from his hair. “Ow! Fuck,” She hissed, as the person at the counter looked up from what appeared to be a book.
“Welcome to Eventide Confectionary,” they began, taken aback by Molly’s appearance. “What…uh…can I do you for?”
“Unfortunately, I’m not offering that service at the moment,” Molly winked at them, “but I am rather interested in your services, friend. What kind of delectable treats do you have here?”
“Um…” They had to take a moment to collect themselves. “Well, we’ve got…sweet rolls, muffins, cupcakes, donuts, crisps and crumbles…just about anything you can think of,” they told their soaking customers humbly.
“What do you think Jester would like, Beau?” Molly asked her sincerely. Beau gave a small smile in spite of herself.
“Probably donuts,” she suggested.
“Donuts it is then!” Molly slid two silver across the counter. “We’ll take a dozen of your most intriguing donuts, if you please.”
“Okay…thank you,” the half-elf slid the silver off the counter into their hand, and went to the baskets of donuts behind them. “You said…which ones?”
“The strangest and most interesting flavors you sell. Something we’d never find anywhere else,” Molly clarified.
“We do have some, uh…unique flavors,” they cleared their throat, looking at a reference list that was tacked underneath the counter. “Sweet pea and sugar ones, cinnamon-rose ones…oh, this one’s weird, it’s got sunflower seeds and chocolate–”
“Surprise us,” Molly cut in. “I trust your judgment.”
“Uh…alright, sure,” the half-elf turned, deciding which donuts were the most interesting and strange.
“She’s going to love it,” Beau assured him. “Smart move.”
“Not trying to beat anyone to the punch,” he replied. “Although it seems I may have.”
“I don’t know what I would’ve done, anyway. If anything,” she mulled it over in her head. “Besides, Yasha’s hotter anyway.”
“Now, I will not disagree with you there, Yasha certainly is a wonder.” He took the box of doughnuts from a still slightly dazed half-elf and with a wink, they were on their way out the door, arms full of donuts and hot cider. “Although she’s certainly not my type.”
“Luckily, she’s JUST my type,” Beau sighed. “You think she likes me?”
“Hard to say, but I don’t think it’s out of the question,” Molly reassured her. “Unfortunately for me, Jester is…”
“So hard to read,” Beau finished the thought for him. “Even though she’s an open fucking book. And…I thought you were gonna go for Caleb, if anyone.”
“There’s still time for that, if Jester turns me down,” he considered.
“She won’t.” Beau gave him a small smile. “You two are fucking inseperable. She’ll be head over heels for you if she isn’t already. Did you see how she reacted to your tarot cards?”
Molly laughed. “She was quite impressed.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” Beau continued. The group was just barely starting to come into view through the rain. “Trust me, man. You’ve got this.”
“Thank you, Beau. And best of luck yourself,” he gave her a small wink. Beau rolled her eyes and tried to check him in the side. “Careful! You don’t want to spill all this cider I worked so hard for!”
“Alright, fuck you, asshole!” Beau snapped back, laughing.
By this point, the rest of the Mighty Nein were in earshot, and they could just hear Jester calling out to them. “Did you two play nice?” She grinned at the sight of them.
“Only barely managed to get out alive,” Molly called back to her. Jester laughed, the sound carrying on the wind with the patter of the raindrops. Between the smell of rain, the feel of the hot cider in his hands, the sound of her laughter in the air…it was perfection.
“Cider for everyone,” Beau announced, passing out mugs.
“Drink up, you look like death,” Molly gave Caleb a hearty slap on the back as he handed the soggy wizard a mug of cider. “And…oh, fuck, Nott,” he noticed Nott vibrating violently. “Please, drink.”
“So cold…” Nott chattered through her teeth.
“Thank you, Molly. And Beau,” Fjord raised his cup to them before taking a good sized swig.
“And one last thing,” Molly began his presentation once his hands were mug-free, wiggling his fingers dramatically before opening the donut box, on one knee to display them to a captivated Jester. “A few of Zadash’s finest confections, made freshly just for you, dear.”
Jester’s hands shot to her mouth as she bounced up and down. “Oh, Molly! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She practically fell on him, wrapping him in a huge hug. Despite how cold it was, she was radiating warmth. Molly knew he was blushing. Was it because she was also a tiefling, and he could notice the difference in her body temperature from everyone else? Or was it just that Jester was an unstoppable radiating force of warmth and goodness? Maybe both, he considered, as he squeezed her a little bit tighter. “Molly, you didn’t have to buy my donuts,” Jester whispered in his ear.
“Of course I did,” he insisted. “Can’t have you going hungry, can I?”“I’ll share them, I promise,” she said eagerly, kissing him quickly and sweetly on the cheek. Molly felt her lips on his skin long after they were gone.
“Alright, maybe the cider was a good idea,” Caleb admitted, a few sips into his drink. “But can we please dry off before we get into the donuts?”
“Fine by me,” Fjord voted.
“I feel like a drowned rat,” Nott whimpered.
“Then let’s get ourselves a room or two at the Leaky Tap,” Molly pretended to decide, lifting Jester a little bit above the ground before setting her down on her feet.
“I’ll race you!” She challenged him, bolting off into the rain.
“Jester!” Caleb called after her. “Ach, Jester…”
“You’re on!” Molly raced after Jester, making sure to jump in as many puddles as he could see. Sure, his boots would be soaked for days. But this was certainly worth it.