Chapter Text
Well educated. Well traveled. Wells that didn't matter this far away from civilization. Didn't matter this close to a gnoll's teeth.
The gnoll dropped its prey and turned towards Guex. Gore dripped from its jaws, viscera from its fur. He'd survived the hells, banishment and worgs, and this was going to be what got him. A newborn!
"I could suggest a drink pairing, to go with me," he mumbled. "You're just an infant, so probably milk—"
With a gibbering, mocking bark, it stalked closer. The hyena it burst from caught on one of its feet and was dragged through the dust behind it.
"—really should marinate first—" he babbled.
Its maw opened, a wave of muggy, coppery stink rolling towards him.
"—perhaps a salad?"
A blade lobbed through its neck, sticking halfway. An arc of liquid red splashed through the air, in a dramatic spray he thought only happened on stage. None of it hit Guex, excellent, because he did not know how to get blood out of this shirt. The soldier pulled him upright, just lifted him up one handed, clapped the dust off his shoulder and left him standing in the middle of the road.
"No dessert?" Guex asked no one. One of the hyenas spasmed. He picked up his bag and jogged after the soldier.
A few idle conversations later and Guex got the soldier's name: Ikaron. Here with his mother, how nice, and saving strangers, how nice! A stiff, stoic outside with some softness behind it, like a chocolate cream truffle. Chocolate cream truffles were Guex's favorite.
Guex sidled up to Ikaron on his second day at the Grove, holding the bag Guex had brought into the Grove. It actually belonged to the courier who fell in with them, a poor sap who thought there might be safety in numbers. Turned out numbers simply took their group from a snack to a buffet.
"One of the letters is due south of here," he said, showing Ikaron the courier's map. Ikaron said nothing. A little storm cloud, he was, his face like he was always about to break out in a glare. Fortunately, Guex didn't need anyone to brighten his day. He was already much too bright for most people.
"I'm going to deliver it," he announced with all the subtlety of freshly polished costume jewelry.
He made it all the way to the gate before a jangle of armor ran up behind him. Like a harpy to a bauble.
"It's dangerous," was all Ikaron said.
The main path took Ikaron and Guex past an abandoned village. Scouts had warned that goblins had moved into the dilapidated buildings, so Ikaron directed them down a side path to the small skiffs docked at the beach. He hoped to sink into his thoughts, but his companion was far too distracting. Guex prattled on, picking vines and flowers and weaving them into a crown, then a headdress, then adding a veil.
"For you, my grand protector," Guex said, offering it on the boat.
"Why are you wet?" Ikaron asked. Guex's clothes clung to his body.
"Wet? Wet? I am merely damp, my fine fellow. I thought this was my bag—" he patted the courier's bag "—but alas, it was not. So, behold, all my possessions. Rinsed, but not yet clean."
"You should have told us. Your kin will take care of you."
"No, no, no. Then you'll expect me to contribute and I don't currently care to work. Oh! Look, the lowlands!"
They docked in an idyllic meadow, flooded by the lake from the recent rains, complete with sheep. Every flower blossomed. Guex's headdress had become a full cloak. With the grace of a patriar, he strode around, grandly reaching for his next addition. His flowered cloak swayed behind him, boots untouched by the mud, like some fey courtier. Perhaps he was fey, and they were heading to a revelry where Ikaron would need to guard his name and tongue, Guex's glamer slowly fading un—
With a splash, Ikaron missed the path, slipped on the muddy incline and stumbled into the flood. Up to his knees in clear water. For a moment he froze, watching tadpoles swim around his boots, then he sloshed back out.
"Are you alright?" Guex asked airily.
"They'll dry."
"Nonsense. You'll get blisters. The path is clear. Go barefoot until we arrive, at least."
"It's dangerous."
Guex clumsily pulled at the shortsword that was buckled at his waist and said, "I shall protect you."
Yes, with the dull sword that he wore backwards. A funny joke.
The rest of the walk Ikaron focused. If he was going to be a good asset, he would need to be a good guard. And part of being a good guard was not falling into stories or allowing another to fascinate you, no matter how well they carried themself or how fey they were being. He stayed focused as Guex chattered about how one could cook the young shoots of mergrass and commented about the unusual clumps of musk creeper and how odd it was there were no nests this deep in the marsh. About Wispweed and the stories behind it, how the lonely and brokenhearted drowned in places like this, the leaving only their hair in the water to mark their graves.
Their footsteps fell together, their strides matching, and again his world narrowed to only the voice next to him until Guex exclaimed, "Oh! A house!"
A pleasant looking old woman sat on the porch built off the side. Quickly, Ikaron tried to story her. Outlived her family, perhaps. No, she never had one, she'd been wild and free and was now content in this calm life. No, she did have one, and they were all alive and inside.
None of the prior. Her face creased when she saw them. An off, sharp look. The reason she was here was a lot darker. More painful and more tragic, although his feelings weren't sure if the pain and tragedy were hers.
Apprehension prickled up his back, his legs tensing, hand itching to pull his ax. A ludicrous, instinctual reaction to this stranger.
Ludicrous instincts kept him alive so far.
"Hail!" Guex called. "My Lady of the Lake, we have come to deliver this!" With a flourish, he held out the letter.
"Oh, my!" said the woman. "You're not my usual courier."
"Gnolls, I'm afraid."
"The wheel of fate does crush." She opened the letter and her face lit up. "My, this is excellent news! My little Mayrina is finally coming to rest! One moment, boys. Let me get you payment."
"There's no need," Ikaron said, stepping between her and Guex. He tucked his hands behind his back. The tendons of his fingers creaked around the handle of his ax. "It is our duty to assist."
"I should say that traveling with my friend is its own reward, but I very recently lost everything except this damp and draggled outfit. If you had any clothes to spare, I would appreciate it. I'm comfortable in anything."
"My poor petal," crooned the old woman. "I know just the thing. You wait here for auntie."
"What do you think it will be?" whispered Guex. "I'm hoping for one of those lacy nightgowns, so comfortable. Refreshing around the tail, eh? And tea. And cookies!"
Cookies would be acceptable. Ikaron found himself hoping for them, too. With little berries in them, like his mother used to bake.
"This makes the sixteenth auntie I've acquired! One day I must gather them all in the same room. The day would either end with baking or bloodshed," Guex continued, wandering around the front yard. "She really is quite pleasant, isn't she? How can a nice old lady live out here, alone, with goblins about? We should invite her to shelter with us."
"Likely she does magic."
"This place does look a little magical. You know, as we approached, she looked at me like she was thinking about eating me."
The perfect way to describe that odd look!
Guex continued, "Not a nasty look, exactly, but certainly intimidating. I'm fairly certain the Guthfex family had more than a passing interest in that sort of thing and it was exactly the way their matron used to look at me."
"If you suspected danger, we should have turned around." A branch cracked. Ikaron's head snapped towards the sound.
Only a sheep.
"Nonsense! If I were going to be scared off by a ravenous look I would never have survived ballroom lessons. It is impossible that Auntie be worse than my old instructor. She was rumored to be a hag. Certainly could glare like one."
"Perhaps the auntie was concerned by the sight of two grown tieflings, armed and wet."
Guex laughed a rich, rolling laugh. A smile swam behind Ikaron's lips, not daring to break through. People rarely laughed at his jokes. They rarely realized he was joking at all.
"Here you are, petal." The auntie held out a small hunk of metal, hung on a chain. It brushed near Ikaron's breastplate and stuck fast. Revulsion rolled through him.
"A loadstone," Guex breathed, like it was a diamond and not a worthless, vile little rock.
"More than that. A fisherstone. Most of the time it is a simple lodestone. You can cast it into the lake and see what you can find. Or simply imagine what you want and it will take you there. The rope will hold any load attached to the stone. Fair warning: don't use it too often, or you may forget how to find things on your own."
"This is far too fine a thanks for a letter."
"My Mayrina is pregnant. That child means the world to me, petal, and now I know to keep a lookout for her on these difficult roads. It's so worrisome when the one you're expecting is expecting. Now, will you stay the night? Or for dinner? I've just traded some fresh meat."
Guex perked up, ready to say yes. Ikaron said, "We must get back."
"Will you make it before dark?"
He nodded.
Guex said, "We're lodged at the druids' grove."
A dark gleam flashed across the auntie's eyes. Or maybe just the reflection of a flying bird. "At the Grove? A mighty hard place to find, petal, with that nasty archdruid keeping it under his thumb."
"Not at all! It is a fine establishment, just up that way. Not very well hidden. Makes you wonder why the goblins haven't found it yet."
"Guex," Ikaron warned.
The auntie said, "Lots of ways to twist it. Mayhaps it's harder to find unless you've already found it once. Mayhaps it's only tricky should you mean it harm."
Ikaron's eyes narrowed. "We really should go. It's getting late."
"Thank you so much for your hospitality, Auntie."
"Any time, petal. Here. Take some apples. For the road." She handed them each two apples, so red and shiny they looked like rubies.
No, red and shiny as blood.
The fisherstone was exactly what Guex needed. It provided him the location of a skeleton, and the skeleton provided a new outfit, fine leather armor with barely any stab wounds. Then the stone took him for a selection of fine teas, because he deserved something nice out here. An ideal partner, this stone, with its little gifts and treats. The more abstract ideas—passage past the goblins, the secret to enlightenment, the parts of his body that would respond best to an oil cleanse—yielded nothing.
Curiosity sated, he started on Ikaron.
"Thank you for saving me," he said, offering him a bottle of wine.
"No need to pay me. I protect my kin."
"We could drink it together. Get to know each other."
"This isn't the time for drinking."
Quickly, Guex learned it was also not the time for poetry, singing, painting, dancing, wrestling, embroidery or basket weaving. Not pretty flowers, gems, nor jewelry. The only thing he'd accepted had been a steaming mug of tea.
"You need to appreciate the finer things!" Guex leaned on the railing, his little finger against Ikaron's. "I am."
Ikaron idly shifted his hand so they were still next to each other, but not touching. In his other, he held the ruby ring that was today's gift. "Why are you offering me these? You could keep them. Sell them."
"You saved me. It is customary to thank one's hero."
"Of course I did. I couldn't not."
Guex certainly hadn't had a problem freezing up, letting someone die. He said, "I'm going to thank you properly."
Ikaron pocketed the ring. "This is enough."
"Trust me, my good sir. My life is worth far more than that. I'll stop when I've buried you in diamonds."
Ikaron simply returned to his post. Not a smile, not a shrug, nothing! It made him more appealing.
Oh, to rustle up that hair, to get under that skin. Learn what his laugh sounded like. Once, Guex had to plan an entire evening between the Highcasters and the Bleuxlabours. They had blood as bad as it was blue and that evening ended with a proposal. If he could do that, he could get Ikaron to open up.
And the longer it took, the more fun it was.