Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sunlight pierces through the cherry blossoms, dancing upon the cobblestone of the old arched bridge leading into Heawick. It is a quaint little town, tucked away between rolling hills dotted with hazel trees, a grove, and meandering streams. No modern architecture has defaced its landscape, leaving its traditional limestone facades to stand the test of time, which they did brilliantly.

After all, anybody lucky enough to settle down in Heawick can only fall in love with its old streets and picturesque shopfronts, and this urged most of the inhabitants to care for the outside of their homes almost as much as they did the inside. Those who are too old to tend to them can usually rely on the kindness of good-hearted neighbours, who do not hesitate to lend a hand for anything. Trimming the growing ivy without removing it, plucking juicy fruits from branches, cleaning windows; there is never a task too daunting when it comes to helping out.

It is early on a spring morning and the elderly man who lives nearest to the bridge has already been up and about for hours to water every planter lining up the road and hanging from the old lampposts with their flaky paint. Another project held captive in the neverending pile of documents and forms on Mayor Ravengard’s desk.

The bakery at the corner of the first crossing has long finished its first batches of pastries and bread, filling the air with mouthwatering scents. A few souls are already dragging their feet to its doors, still wiping the sleep out of their eyes as they seek some warm breakfast. On the opposite side of the street, a sweaty young man carries crates full of fruits and vegetables. He sets them up outside the greengrocer's shop, ensuring they are stable enough to sustain the shaking and bumping of passersby and customers.

Near the tiny park at the heart of the town, some owners walk their dogs, waving at neighbours and friends, wishing one another good morning when they have enough caffeine in their veins to wake them up. The barber reads his newspaper on one of the benches, seizing the opportunity to enjoy the first beautiful day of the season before going to work.

All is well in Heawick, as it always is. It is rarely eventful since so few people inhabit it.

‘Come here, Scratch. Good boy.’

While giving the white dog a loving pat between the ears, Halsin turns the sign on the door, officially opening his practice. He leans casually against the doorframe, his gaze fixed on the world beyond his house, a triumphant surge coursing through his veins. So many years of hard labour and sacrifice, this seemingly small victory holds the weight of a lifetime’s worth of dedication and perseverance.

After perusing office space offers on every website known to man and visiting many a wretched place, having found this little corner of paradise to establish himself was nothing short of a miracle. And what a place it is!

Everything is ready for him to welcome his first furry patients. After renovating the place himself, he designed a welcoming surgery for owners and animals alike, creating an environment in which he would not mind staying for hours on end every day. Each nook and cranny has been sterilised for the animals’ well-being and he dedicated a corner for the comfort of his own dog, whom he expects to become his official assistant. Photographs of Scratch and the pets of friends from his hometown printed on canvas are the only decorations in the waiting room, ornamenting the otherwise dull, pastel-blue walls. At the welcome desk, a duck he whittled himself sits on top of the counter between two bowls of treats; one for the pets, one for the anxious owners.

Karlach, his newly hired assistant, insisted on having more decorations brought in, but Halsin was more than hesitant to indulge her. While the young woman certainly is enthusiastic enough for both of them, he can tell that if he does not put his foot down, the practice would have stuffed animals from floor to ceiling.

After giving the place yet another proud look, Halsin walked over to the reception, sneaking a treat to Scratch on the way. He sits behind the computer and plays old-timey folk music from his music library. He stretches his back and spins around on his chair, kicking his feet.

Now he just has to wait.

While one of his favourite songs plays, he browses the latest wildlife photographs on the National Geographic website, smiling at the wholesome snapshots and zooming on each of them to observe any detail capturing his attention. He is halfway through the second page and sipping his cold herbal tea when the door opens and the little bell tinkles. His eyes shoot up and he stands from his chair.

But it is no patient. It is merely Melly, the baker’s mother, who comes to bring him some fruit pastries wrapped up in a small lavender-coloured box topped with a bow. As soon as she catches a glimpse of him, her eyes illuminate and she gives him a wave.

‘Good morning, Halsin, dear!’ she chimes.

Grinning from ear to ear, he bypasses the desk and comes to shake the old lady’s hand. Curled up on his cushion, Scratch looks up, but ignores her arrival and goes back to sleep.

‘Good morning, Melly,’ he greets her back. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘Oh, nothing, love, nothing at all! I came to see how you were faring on your first day.’

Halsin gazes around with a chuckle.

‘It has been quiet so far. In fact, you are the first person to walk in.’

‘Is that so? Ah, well, do not worry, dearie. The people in this town have been praying for a doctor and a veterinarian closer to home for decades . They will come.’

The thought warms up the man’s heart. Not that he has been worrying about the lack of patients so far, but he has come to wonder on multiple occasions about how long it would take for the first appointments to come in. He has bills to pay after all, and the renovation of what used to be a woodworker’s shop was not cheap, no matter how many things he did himself to save up on better equipment.

‘Would you like some tea, Melly?’

‘Oh, no, darling, thank you,’ she chuckles with a dismissing wave of her hand. The old woman hands him the lavender box. ‘I brought you this, thought you might need a little encouragement for your first day.’

‘How lovely of you, thank you!’

‘I will not linger, I fear that my old face would scare even the sickest hound away,’ she jokes while patting his shoulder. ‘Would you like me to take some of your business cards to display at the bakery? I’m sure that my son would not object.’

Melly does not even wait for him to respond before grabbing a quarter of the cards neatly stacked on the countertop. She shoves them in her cardigan’s pocket. The garment seems to have survived many decades, yet has retained its charm. Halsin always finds himself smiling at the sight of the ducks knitted around the waistline, complementing the beige diamond stitches all over it.

‘Do you need me to bring you lunch later, love?’

‘No, Melly, thank you. I have already planned my next few meals, but it is nice of you to offer.’

‘Very well,’ she smiles, patting his cheek. ‘You know where to find me if you need anything.’

‘I do. Thank you for everything.’

Out of courtesy, he accompanies her to the door, the pastry box seeming so tiny in his large palm, when it is a normal size in anybody else’s grasp. Before leaving, Melly turns to look at him, running a wrinkled finger underneath her chin.

‘Where is that eccentric assistant of yours? Is she not helping you today?’

‘Karlach? Oh, she is touring the neighbouring towns to leave calling cards in shops and town halls.’

‘Oh, good, good. What a tempest, this girl!’

Halsin laughs, scratching the back of his head.

‘She is, but I am sure that the animals will love her. I can already tell that she will love them first anyway.’

‘Well, as long as she works well…’

Without adding another word, Melly crosses the road, absent-mindedly waving at him while she looks around for cars. Once the old lady has returned to the bakery, Halsin takes a deep breath of countryside air and moves to close the door.

That is when he sees her.

Chapter Text

There she stands, in the middle of the street, with messy copper-red hair blown around her pointy ears and into her eyes by the mischievous breeze. Sweat beads upon her pale brow, trickling down her temples and threatening to dampen the bumpy bridge of her freckled nose. Although clouded by nearly palpable concern, her turquoise eyes capture his gaze within a heartbeat, stealing the breath from his lungs.

While her expression displays panicked urgency, the faint lines coursing from the curves of her nostrils down to frame her rosy lips, coated with strong cherry-scented chapstick, bear witness to the numerous times she must have laughed and smiled. Such expressions must have been genuine, he thinks, since they have reached and creased the corners of her almond eyes.

Before his stare lingers upon her, he lowers it to the heavy weight occupying her arms and he nearly steps back in surprise.

An owlbear cub. An actual owlbear cub!

Out of breath and attempting to wipe the sweat stinging her eyes with her shoulder, she approaches him and calls out to him.

‘Good morning,’ she huffs, ‘are you…’

She tilts her head down to read a creased business card she previously tucked below her armpit.

‘...Doctor Silverbough?’

‘I am he, indeed,’ Halsin nods and opens the door wide again. ‘Is something wrong with the cub?’

The lady acquiesces and lets out a whimper as the whining cub’s weight weakens her grip and she tries to adjust it. Without thinking, he shoves the pastry box in his pocket and steps forward to delicately take the ailing animal from her. He invites her inside as he carries the cub to the examination table in his clinical room. Upon seeing the owlbear’s stature, he mentally pats himself on the back for having invested in a larger examination table despite his former mentor’s advice to stick to standard dimensions.

The woman, having followed him and closed the door behind them, comes to stand by her furry and feathery companion to scratch him behind the ears in reassurance.

‘There is something wrong with his front paw,’ she says, showing him which one she means. ‘When I called him for breakfast this morning, he didn’t come up to me. He stayed at the back of our field and he wouldn’t move. So, I went to check up on him, and I saw that he couldn’t stand up and that he couldn’t walk at all.’

Halsin lets the cub smell his hand before petting him on the head and the side of its face, letting it know that his intentions are nothing but friendly. After a moment of hesitation, the owlbear squeaks and sits back on its hind legs, almost in reverence. The veterinarian thanks it with a brief scratch under its beak and proceeds to a preliminary examination.

As he carefully feels around for any spot that might be especially sensitive, Halsin senses warm dents into the flesh of the paw, about three inches above the long and sharp claws. While the owner watches him with fear ablaze in her eyes, he brushes back the feathers and tries to find the holes he felt just a moment ago.

It does not take long before he does. Fresh blood guides him to the puncture wounds, witnesses of the tearing of the cub’s leathery skin. It is a botched work. Either the animal has struggled and caused more damage than necessary, or something — or someone — has pulled at whatever the source of such injuries was. And it must have been something quite solid, if not the teeth of a strong-jawed animal.

‘I feel deep punctures in a curved line,’ he mutters pensively to the owner. ‘Can you think of anything which could have bitten your cub? Or any object that could have torn the skin?’

The woman ponders for a moment, folding her arms as she does, but responds with a shake of her head.

‘I cannot think of anything. The field I let him live in is not one where I cultivate the land, so there is no farming equipment on the spot, not even a pitchfork.’

‘Does it ever leave the field?’

‘I do take it on the occasional forest walk, but I am extremely careful when it happens. Because of his wild animal status, I can’t take him just anywhere, you see.’

‘Of course.’

From the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of her holding her head. When her whole body sways, he reaches out to catch her by the arm, preventing her from hurting herself in an unfortunate fall. He sits her down on a chair against the wall and crouches before her. Funny enough, his large frame is such that even in such a position, he remains taller than her.

‘Are you alright, madam?’ he asks loudly, in case she might need to snap back into consciousness. But she is awake, much to his relief.

‘I am, sorry about that. I am just worried about my cub.’

Judging from her pallor, he can tell that her issues are rooted in something else.

‘Have you eaten today?’

‘No. I usually give him breakfast before I have mine, and it took me so long to carry him across the field, then into the car, then drive here, then…’

She sighs and leans her head back against the wall. Poor thing, Halsin tells himself. In his two decades of experience in this field, fainting owners have been commonplace. After all, animals and pets are companions, family members, even. They are a lonely grandfather’s friend, the confidante of an ill-at-ease child, the partner in crime of an adventurous young woman. They take on many roles and never fail to bring comfort to their owners, although the occasional call to animal protection services has occurred throughout his career, as much for the animal’s wellbeing than for the apathetic owner’s sake. And, to be frank, his own peace of mind, but this is never a useful criterion when dealing with such circumstances.

Halsin gently takes the woman’s wrist to measure her pulse.

‘Would you like me to make you some tea?’ he offers with a warm smile. ‘I have some snacks you can eat. It is not good for you to remain in this state.’

She stares into his eyes, a blush dusting her cheeks and nearly rendering her freckles invisible to the eye.

‘Perhaps it’ll help,’ she answers weakly. ‘Thank you.’

He pats her arm and rushes to the staff room to fill the electric kettle with water before turning it on. As the device starts and a loud hum fills the cramped space, Halsin leans back against the cabinets and conceals a giddy grin behind his hand.

His heart is racing. He cannot explain it, but it is. He nearly grows dizzy from it, in the same manner that she swayed earlier. In twenty-two years of work, this has never happened. If anything, he was known to be the most professional veterinarian in the previous practice for which he worked. From his first day to the last, Halsin impressed his boss on multiple occasions, demonstrating unmatched level-headedness when dealing with heart-wrenching situations.

One day, a young man rushed inside the office, cradling his unresponsive cat whose abdomen was torn open by sharpened iron spikes. The owner was howling in despair, struggling to believe that anybody would do this to his innocent furry companion. While Halsin was busy keeping the animal alive, treating the gash and sewing it up, he could hear the man begging his colleague to save the cat, his only friend left in the world. Uncannily adroit with a needle, he managed to save the feline’s life and he became its regular vet throughout the years. Once the owner had left, his manager had praised Halsin for his unshakeable calm demeanour, but little did he know that he struggled to sleep for a few nights, wondering whether there could have been anything that he could have done better for this poor little creature.

But having his heart racing for a pet’s owner? Never. Unheard of. Inconceivable!

Before he knows it, steam swirls out of the kettle’s beak and a sudden click resounds from the countertop, a brief interruption amid the bubbling noise of the water. Halsin shakes his head, trying to keep his head clear, and retrieves his teabox from one of the overhead cabinets. He prepares the tea service on a tray, complementing it with a jar of honey and a small, flowery sugar box he inherited from a relative. On a saucer, he sets down three of the miniature pastries that Melly brought him earlier, hoping that they would be enough to keep the lady’s blood sugar up. 

Tucking the teabox under his arm, he carries the tray to the examination room and sets it down on the chair beside her, pleased to see that the woman is regaining colours.

‘Here, pick a flavour,’ he says, balancing the teabox on his palm and opening it for her.

‘Thank you,’ she mumbles in embarrassment, picking a red berry infusion. As she notices the honey on the tray, she eyes him curiously. ‘Honey? Isn’t that for sore throats?’

Halsin laughs and washes his hands in the small sink in the corner of the room, drying them thoroughly.

‘It is, but I find honey to be most soothing when I am worried. You are free to try it.’

The woman smiles at last and takes him up on the offer. As Halsin brings his focus back to the injured cub, he hears the clinking of the spoon inside the cup as she twirls the mixture in the same way a witch would stir a potion.

Setting the paw on a sterile cloth, he washes the blood away with saline water, clearing the view so he can identify the problem.

‘I cannot believe this,’ he grumbles through gritted teeth as he recognises the marks.

‘What is it, doctor?’ the woman gasps, her head shooting up as soon as his voice reaches her.

‘Bear trap. Your cub had his paw stuck in one. Are you sure that you have not seen anything suspicious in your field or the forest? Truly nothing at all?’

She hastily drinks a sip and sets the cup aside, jumping onto her feet to see the injuries with her own eyes.

‘A bear trap, you say? I don’t…’

‘Does he ever leave your field? Are there any other places that he might go?’

‘No, only the field and the forest. My permit only allows me to take him there,’ she answers, before furrowing her brow. ‘Although, when I found him this morning, the fence had been broken in from outside. I doubt that he escaped. He has never tried it.’

Her gaze darkens as she ponders about the fence again. It seems that she might have found an explanation for the broken face, and, Halsin hopes, for the trap.

‘This little fucker!’ she hisses.

As she sees his raised eyebrow, she waves a hand before her.

‘Sorry, doctor. I believe I know who might have done it.’

She grabs her cup of tea to sip it, letting it calm her nerves, even just for an instant.

‘My neighbour, Mr Bongle. A bitter man, this one. Always angry about something. He was so adamant about having the cub taken away by the local authorities and euthanised. He tried to oppose my acquisition of a piece of the field behind my house for the owlbear’s development, and it went so far that the dispute needed mediation from the town hall.’

‘I see. How did it end up?’

‘I won the dispute. I proved that I had the right paperwork done and that I had all the permits to keep the owlbear in my care. My family owns a rescue centre in the north. They cure wounded wild animals and release them. I used to work with them when I was a student, so I’m experienced when it comes to that sort of animal.’

‘Do you believe that your neighbour might have disagreed with the verdict?’

‘Oh, very much so. He has threatened to hurt the cub more than once,’ she scoffs, finishing the tea in one last gulp, before petting the owlbear’s head and peppering its feathers with kisses. Even from where he stands, Halsin notices the tears welling up in her eyes. ‘I just never thought he would actually do it.’

While she cuddles her owlbear — the animal being visibly comfortable around her — Halsin begins to clean each wound individually.

‘Have you seen any trap on your land?’ he inquires while hunched over the animal’s claws.

‘None.’

That does not help things at all. After all, the woman mentioned owning a field, it is possible that the spot where she found the cub is different from the whereabouts of the trap. What if the creature crawled away after being caught and simply could not go any further?

‘It is not the first time that I see such an attack happening,’ Halsin confesses to the woman. ‘Back in the village where I used to work, neighbours’ quarrels were sometimes aggravated by attacks on the other party’s private property, and pets or farm animals were often the first to suffer from such pettiness.’

‘Any pattern you recognise?’

Halsin offers a simple shrug.

‘It could be anything. If Mr Bongle is indeed behind your cub’s injuries, it is possible that he planted the trap on the edge of your field, but once he saw it caught, he could have panicked and broken into your property to remove the trap. That could explain the broken fence and the tears in the skin. But these are mere suppositions.’

‘I see.’

Once all the wounds are disinfected, Halsin conducts a test to assess the extent of nerve and tissue damage caused by the jaw of the bear trap. Unfortunately, the cub does not respond to stimulation as well as he hoped it would. When he gently pokes the area with a dull needle, the creature merely tilts its head, wondering what he is up to. But there is no response in the limb. No twitch of the claw. Further up the leg, however, everything seems to work as normal.

‘Mh,’ Halsin sighs, ‘I am afraid that there has been some nerve damage, either caused by the trap or the attempts to remove it. That is why he could not stand or walk. He does not seem to feel anything in the paw. Slight tingles at most.’

‘Is there anything we can do?’

‘I can operate this afternoon. All the materials and equipment are here. Since the rest of the leg responds normally, I believe that the damage to the paw is not irreversible. That was simply bad luck.’

‘Will he struggle to walk later on?’

‘That is a risk, indeed, but if he limps for the rest of his life, it should be a painless hindrance. I have seen animals with worse injuries that could still run around until late in life. Sure, their gait appeared a bit silly at times, but they did not experience any discomfort or pain.’

The woman nibbles on her lower lip and nods slowly.

‘Fine. Let’s operate.’

Halsin lets her reassure the trembling owlbear and walks over to the computer on the opposite side of the examination table. He opens his software and types the details of the situation into a new file.

‘I can keep him here already until the surgery. Just in case, I would like to keep him overnight for observation. This will not be at your charge.’

‘Oh, thank you. May I ask how you are going to look after him?’

‘I live right above the practice,’ he responds warmly, pointing at the ceiling. ‘I can check up on him every three hours and make sure that he drinks and eats enough. You should be able to bring him home tomorrow. Would that be suitable for you?’

‘Yes.’

He continues to fill in the form on the software, the clickety-clacks of his old keyboard filling the room.

‘Besides,’ he adds, ‘I have a loyal companion who would be delighted to keep watch over your cub.’

Behind the reception, outside the room, they hear Scratch stretching his paws. His claws clink against the linoleum floor, and his whimpery yawn causes both the veterinarian and the anxious owlbear owner to smile.

‘Sounds like a good boy, alright,’ the woman acquiesces with a chuckle. ‘Well, I suppose that Beaky’s in good hands.’

‘Beaky?’

‘Oh, yes, that’s his name. Beaky. Sorry, I’m not creative when it comes to names.’

‘That is quite alright,’ Halsin laughs, ‘I have heard much worse.’

Once every field has been filled in, he turns around to face the woman.

‘May I ask for your name and address, so I can fill in Beaky’s file?’

‘Of course. My name is Tav Ashguard and my address is 8 Barn Way in Combury.’

‘Thank you.’

Tav . What a peculiar name, but one he likes nonetheless. As soon as compliments fill his head, he ushers them away as if he fears that she can read his mind.

‘There. Everything is ready,’ he speaks over the deafening whirlwind of thoughts inside his brain. ‘If you wish, I can take your phone number and keep you updated if anything happens. This can be done by text or on the phone, whatever suits your preferences.’

‘Texts would be perfect. Call only if it is dire.’

‘Very well.’

Tav recites her phone number and he enters it in his file and into his work phone. Halsin then gives Beaky some mild painkillers just to be sure, before escorting its owner back to the reception. Once they stand at the door, he points towards a nearby street.

‘If you suspect Mr Bongle, I would advise you to seek the local forest ranger, Minsc. His office is up that street, to the right. He is in charge of the woods between Heawick and Combury, so perhaps he can help you find the bear trap. If not, he can refer you to a lawyer from the animal protection services, he often works with them when he finds injured and orphaned animals.’

‘Oh, that’s lovely of you. Thank you.’

She shakes his hand firmly.

‘Thank you for the tea and for taking care of Beaky. I was not sure whether you would take him in, but I’m glad you did.’

‘Of course. All animals deserve to be saved.’

‘I like hearing that.’

If Halsin did not know better, he could swear that he saw her blush just now.

‘Please, keep me updated on Beaky’s state?’

‘I promise you that I will keep a close eye on him.’

‘Perfect. Thanks. Goodbye, Dr Silverbough!’

‘Goodbye, Miss Ashguard.’

He sees her walk back to her car, right when a roaring engine echoes through the street. Karlach appears, perched atop a vintage motorcycle, and parks the vehicle in front of the practice. The tiefling hops off, clad in a short leather jacket adorned with silver buckles and dull spikes. She runs a hand through her dark hair ornamented with red streaks, hoping that it was not flattened too much because of her helmet.

When she notices Halsin at the door, she waves excitedly, her whole face illuminating.

‘Morning, Doc!’ she chimes, watching Tav’s car driving away. ‘Was that our first patient?’

Halsin grins. He has not known the young woman long, but one thing is for certain. Her enthusiasm, even for the littlest things, is unparalleled.

‘Indeed.’

‘What was it? A dog? A cat? A bird?’

‘An owlbear.’

Karlach gasps, her eyes as round as marbles and her jaw dropping at once.

‘No fucking way!’

‘Language,’ Halsin scolds playfully, although he certainly wishes that she could swear less loudly.

‘Sorry. No way! ’

Without needing any form of invitation, she rushes inside, slamming her helmet on her chair behind the reception. She bursts into the examination room and finds the docile cub on the table. While Halsin closes the door and quietly makes his way to the two of them, he hears Karlach’s squeals and her cooed words as she pets the creature.

‘I will operate on him this afternoon, so I will need to close the practice earlier. Until we find another vet willing to work here, we do not have much choice.’

‘Understood, Doc.’

‘I will keep him overnight for observation. You can simply go home once I am done with the surgery. Does that sound alright to you?’

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to stay longer?’

‘It should be fine.’

The tiefling continues to pet the cub in the same way she does Scratch, not caring that it is supposed to be a wild animal.

‘Where will the cub sleep, though?’ she asks. ‘Aren’t our cages too cramped for a pet this size?’

‘I will bring down the mattress from my guest room,’ Halsin sighs. ‘I might sleep near him while he recovers.’

‘You know what you should invest in, Doc? A babyphone. Or one of those baby cameras, you know?’

‘Hah. Perhaps I should.’

He watches her as she showers Beaky with love. Despite her inexperience, he has no regrets about employing Karlach. She is most efficient, involved, caring, and willing to learn any new task. These are qualities that he immediately sensed in her when she showed up to the practice one day after reading online that it would soon open. Out of nowhere, while varnishing wooden poles, Halsin found the tiefling scratching at his door, begging him to give her a job. Anything.

At the time, she and her partner Dammon were struggling to pay rent, but with early salary payment, once he allowed her to help with the renovations in the office space and the running of errands before she took on her official role, the issue was solved altogether.

Karlach presses a kiss into Beaky’s feathers and turns to Halsin with a smirk.

‘His owner was cute. Didn’t you think so, Doc?’

Halsin laughs and leans against the doorpost, trying to appear as nonchalant as he can.

‘I suppose.’

Chapter Text

Dream a Little Dream of Me fills the cramped little office of the practice, accompanied by the soft hum of a mobile phone. Halsin pats the floor beside him until he retrieves it, groaning and cracking an eye to disable his alarm. Still groggy from his short night, he rubs a hand across his face and sits up.

Little light filters through the lowered slats of the Venetian blinds. Just enough for him to know that the sun has already risen. He sits there for a minute, taking his time to wake up while embracing the warmth of sunlight upon his cheek. Once his mind has cleared of most of the nightly fuzz, he unlocks his phone, grimacing as the screen’s brightness blinds him at first.

Five messages await him, received during his slumber. All were sent by the same person, professionally registered under the name ‘Ms. Ashguard - Beaky’. With a soft smile, he opens the text thread and reads it.

‘ Hassle Beaky been able to eat yet? ’

‘ *Has, sorry .’

‘ Rabbits are his favourite if that helps in any way. Boar is fine too .’

‘ What should I prepare for him to come home? Can he stay in the field or is it better that he remains indoors at first? ’

‘ Sorry for sending you so many texts… Not used to having a pet of my own (if I can call an owlbear a pet, haha!), so I’m just worried. Thanks for everything you do. Good night! ’

Halsin chuckles and scrolls farther up the conversation, refreshing his memory of what information he has given Tav and in what manner. He groans in embarrassment when he notices some typos in his messages that he did not see after sending them. He has yet to grow accustomed to his new work phone, especially its keyboard. His fingers are too large to type properly, which often frustrates him. Usually, he notices the mistakes on time before sending emails or messages, but it seems that his fatigue after waking up several times during the night to check on Beaky in the recovery room blinded him to them.

He exits the conversation without answering Tav and begins to type a new message.

‘ Good morning Karlach, would you mind buying some rabbit meat from the butcher for Beaky before coming to the practice? You can use the company card. See you later. Halsin .’

He locks his phone and stretches his back, before finally dragging himself off the inflatable bed he set up in his office to remain close to Beaky if something were to happen. Rubbing his round stomach as it rumbles, he paces up to the window and opens the blinds, welcoming the morning light in.

After slipping on his T-shirt, he finds Beaky in the recovery room, curled up on the mattress from his guest room that Karlach helped him bring downstairs. Scratch is huddled up beside the owlbear cub, his ears perking up when he hears his owner’s footsteps.

Halsin goes up to the dog and ruffles the fur on his head.

‘Good morning, Scratch,’ he chimes. ‘You have been taking good care of Beaky, I see. Good boy.’

He reaches into a box perched up at the top of a cabinet and takes out a treat he gives to the white dog. Then, noticing that Beaky is stirring awake, he crouches in front of the cub, letting it sniff his hand before daring to pet it.

‘And good morning to you too, Beaky. Still faring well?’

The owlbear produces a low hoot, scratching the mattress with its paw.

‘Alright, let’s have a look, mh?’

Halsin unwraps the bandages and checks the scars. After disinfecting and airing them, he ties up a plastic cone around the ankle so Beaky does not pick at the scabs while he fixes himself a cup of tea. Before adding some honey to the infusion, he dips mint leaves directly into hot water in his favourite mug, decorated with ducks. While stirring the beverage with his spoon, he hears his phone ping in his pocket.

As he unlocks it, he sees a text from Karlach.

‘ On it, Doc! No need to sign your texts, btw, got your number saved already. ’

He chuckles and thanks her. He is quite aware of how old he sounds when speaking, but his way of texting seems much worse. Once his tea is finished, he puts the mug down and goes back to the office to deflate the mattress and bring it back upstairs, where he takes the time to shower and change.

Right when he heads back to the practice, dressed in his teal scrubs, he sees Karlach peeking through the door, carrying something wrapped up in an old newspaper. He unlocks the door and the tiefling instantly hugs him.

‘Morning, Doc! Got the rabbit meat here. How’s Beaks?’

‘Doing well. I will bandage him up again and call his owner.’

‘Eager to see her, huh?’ she teases, nudging him in the ribs with a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she makes her way to the recovery room.

He rolls his eyes and comes to watch her feed the cub with the raw meat. He whistles at Scratch, who follows him to receive his breakfast in turn and frolic in the garden afterwards. While the dog is busy chasing a butterfly, his tongue lolling out happily, Halsin takes a moment to call Tav.

‘Hello?’ the voice on the other side of the line answers.

‘Good morning, Miss Ashguard,’ he greets, smiling widely, ‘Dr Silverbough from the Emerald Grove veterinary office speaking.’

‘Oh, morning doctor! Is everything alright with Beaky?’

‘Everything is in order. He had a good night’s sleep and my assistant gave him some fresh rabbit meat. No appetite loss whatsoever! So, I believe that he is in shape to go home. You can pick him up anytime.’

He hears a heavy sigh of relief.

‘Thank you so much, doctor, I will come later this morning. Do I need to prepare anything for his recovery?’

‘No, I will have everything ready for you. No special arrangement necessary on your part.’

‘Oh, great. I will see you then!’

‘See you later, Miss Ashguard.’

She hangs up and he slips his phone back in his pocket. A smile lingers on his cheeks as he fills his lungs with the flowery scent of the air. He eyes his little flower garden on the side of the yard, admiring the daffodils that have finally grown and bloomed. Their golden petals shimmer in the sunlight, only disrupted by the morning breeze. Perhaps he should think of growing a few more next year for the reception. Plants brighten up a place like nothing else, he always says. In the meantime, he will need to be content with ordering bouquets from Jaheira’s shop.

Then comes the time for them to open the practice and welcome the first patient of the morning. Arfer, the elderly man who waters the planters and flowerbeds throughout Heawick, is already waiting at the door, bringing his old tortoiseshell cat in his carrier. Halsin offers him a warm welcome and a cup of tea, then proceeds to examine the animal. It is but a routine check, accompanied by a slightly overdue vaccine.

Despite its advanced age, the feline is in perfect shape, and its senses — and claws — are still sharp. It always pleases him when people take such great care of their furry companions, and much to his relief, the area seems to be filled with loving owners. In just a day, the difference between the patients in Heawick and those from the village and the city where he previously worked has proved quite striking.

Halsin healed too many dogs in dire need of exercise that were kept in cramped rooms and flats. Many ended up overweight and suffered severe issues, and it always tugged at his heartstrings to see them in such conditions. He often wished that he could offer to adopt them instead, knowing that he could offer them a more fulfilling life, but there was only so much that he could do. In some cases, he did trigger the alarm and contact animal protection services. It was never pleasant to see the pets and owners separated, but it was often better this way.

At least he did not just stand by and watch without trying to save the animal.

When Halsin escorts Arfer back to the reception after creating his file, the old man shakes his hand and gives him a toothy grin.

‘It is quite nice to finally have a vet in town,’ he says. ‘I don’t need to travel all the way to the city to have my Clawdia looked at anymore! When I play Talis with my friends later this week, I will tell them about you, doctor. They all have pets, you see, and some of them are too old to travel to the city.’

‘That is quite nice of you, Mr Proudcobble. It is a pleasure to help the local community,’ Halsin responds with a kind smile. ‘That is precisely why I settled down here, after all.’

‘We are in good hands, then, I say!’

Arfer waves him goodbye and does the same to Karlach, who responds with her usual bubbly greetings. Halsin sighs in satisfaction and takes a look at his watch. He still has about an hour before the next consultation. On his way to his office, Karlach intercepts him with a smirk.

‘Doc, somebody is in the waiting room.’

‘I was not aware that we had another appointment in the meantime.’

The tiefling clears her throat with a wink and nods — not so subtly — towards the waiting room. Halsin turns around and sees a fidgeting Tav on one of the chairs. His smile instantly returns to his lips.

‘Oh, good morning, Miss Ashguard! My apologies, I did not see you there.’

‘That’s nothing, doctor,’ she chuckles, standing up and approaching him to shake his hand. ‘I couldn’t wait to pick up Beaky after all, so I came as fast as I could.’

‘That is quite alright. Right this way.’

He walks with her to the recovery room and Tav instantly coos at the owlbear, throwing herself on her knees at its side to cuddle and pet it. The creature seems delighted to see her, acting much like a lapdog and not as a wild animal as it leans against her touch and rests its heavy head on her shoulder. He leans against the doorframe, watching the scene and embracing the warmth spreading through his chest at the sight.

Indeed, Heawick’s region does not lack loving owners.

Once the initial elation has somewhat dissipated, Halsin approaches the two and crouches before the animal, undoing the plastic cone and dressing the wounds again. Tav watches every gesture with interest, knowing that she will need to mirror each and every one of them once she is home. Noticing her staring, he smiles and explains each step, explaining to her what the best way of tying up the bandage is for such a creature.

Then, he stands up and retrieves a bag he prepared the previous night with everything she might need to care for the cub.

‘I prepared this for you,’ he says gleefully while handing it to her. ‘It contains everything you will need. I added some painkillers, but try to use them only if you see that he is struggling. In case of doubt, you can always call or text.’

‘That’s perfect, thanks! What about the stitches?’

‘We can remove them in about two weeks. Sometimes it can be done earlier, but I would rather remain on the safe side. You can already plan the appointment with my assistant.’

‘Great!’

Tav peeks inside the bag and shoves it inside the satchel hanging from her shoulder. As she slips her arms underneath Beaky to lift him, Halsin halts her and does it ever so naturally.

‘If you could open the doors on the way, I would be grateful,’ he chuckles.

‘Oh, of course.’

She guides him through the practice and they stop by the reception so Karlach can make the appointment for Beaky’s stitch removal. Tav pays for the surgery and consultation and goes to open the front door for the vet and the creature. She guides them to her car, whose backseats have been flattened so the cub can be driven around. Halsin places Beaky there, careful not to hit its paw as he does so. When he closes the car boot, he finds Tav standing close enough to him that he can feel the heat radiating from her body.

The two of them, surprised by this sudden proximity, stare into each other’s eyes for a second. Rosy hues tint their cheeks and noses. He admires the way they dance around her freckles, further softening her delicate traits.

But before he catches himself staring for too long, she chuckles and he mirrors her, taking a step back. They both lower their gazes, and he witnesses the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes in action, they which were left unused the previous day.

And gods does she look beautiful.

‘So, um,’ he forces himself to speak to defuse the odd tension settling between them, ‘have you asked your neighbour about the bear trap, then?’

Tav’s eyes widen and she nods vehemently.

‘Oh, yes! Yes, I did. I met with Minsc as you advised, and he came with me to Combury to check the woods near my house. When Mr Bongle saw us by the field and the broken fence, he just confessed to everything.’

She shrugs, almost as though she expected this turn of events from the start.

‘It was just like you predicted, doctor. He felt guilty when Beaky got trapped, so he removed the trap and left. Good thing, though, he’s refunding me the costs of the consultation and the operation.’

‘I see. Well, it is good to hear that you had closure on the matter.’

‘Not really. Minsc told me not to shrug the situation off. He told me that owlbears were protected in the area, which I didn’t know, so I made an appointment with one of the lawyers of the organisation for animal protection. Hopefully, they can do something.’

Halsin nods and glances towards Beaky, who has fallen asleep in the back seat.

‘If it helps in any way, I will be happy to fill in a medical report for Beaky, including the costs and the follow-ups,’ he suggests, nervously rubbing his palm against the back of his neck. ‘I am glad that you are not leaving the matter to rest. Even if Mr Bongle felt guilty, what says that he would not do it to other animals? Besides, Beaky could have sustained worse damage, but he also worsened his condition by yanking the trap.’

‘You would do that?’

As he faces her again, he meets her twinkling gaze. He finds himself short of breath again the longer he plunges himself into their turquoise pools, nearly feeling the freshwater of their streams upon his skin.

‘Of course.’

Tav smiles from ear to ear and tucks a lock of her hair behind one of them.

‘I might take you up on that offer if you truly don’t mind. We should wait until I meet up with the lawyer in the city. I should know more about the process once I speak to her.’

‘Feel free to text me when you know more.’

‘That’s kind of you. Really.’

They smile at each other again and Tav twirls her car keys around her finger.

‘I should get going. Beaky must be exhausted, still.’

‘Of course. I would advise keeping him indoors for the first few nights and changing the bandages every four hours. When you go to bed, you can wait until morning, that should be fine.’

‘Amazing! Thank you, doctor.’

‘Good luck with Beaky and the lawyer. Do not hesitate to contact us if you have questions or doubts. We would rather be bothered than learn that something went south with Beaky.’

‘Will do. Have a lovely day, doctor.’

‘You too, Miss Ashguard. Take care.’

He shakes her hand and steps away from the car as she hops inside and drives away. He waves awkwardly and heads back inside. Karlach is already leaning against the counter with a smug grin.

‘You really won’t admit that you have the hots for her, Doc, will ya?’

‘Karlach, that is not appropriate.’

‘I saw you, you know. All blushy when she looked at you.’

‘When?’

‘All the time!’

‘Sure, Karlach.’

Checking the time, he heads towards his office and turns on the computer. A few minutes later, as he browses several websites with a frown of deep focus creasing his brow, Karlach comes in, bringing him a cup of coffee.

‘Here you go, Doc.’

‘Oh, thank you.’

He wraps his hand around the hot mug, relishing the warmth as he continues to peruse the catalogues and inventories. He hears the tiefling taking a seat behind him and feels her eyes burning through him.

‘What are you looking for?’ she asks, blowing softly on the surface of her own coffee.

‘Larger pillows for big animals. I should have invested in them earlier, but I did not expect to ever have an owlbear as my patient. Thing is, I cannot find them anywhere.’

‘Mmh.’

She takes a first sip of her drink and gasps loudly in satisfaction. It is a good thing that Halsin has such a high tolerance for mouth noises of all kinds, otherwise he would have long been irked by her presence. Thankfully, it is not the case, and he does not even mind when she breathes down his neck when she has got nothing to do.

‘By the way, doc, did you look into the post-op onesies I told you about? It’s definitely better than the cones. My friend, who has a cat, told me that it didn’t even try to scratch or bite the stitches at all. It did walk funny for about two weeks, but that was it.’

‘I did, I emailed several suppliers, and I’m hoping that they will be open to negotiating prices. So far, the prospects are not quite pleasant, to say the least.’

Karlach ponders about the prices for a moment as he shows them to her, checking different suppliers. Indeed, they represent quite a cost for a new practice. Halsin is keeping money to the side, but he is hoping to save it for a rainy day instead of spending it all whenever he thinks about something which could be helpful for the practice before he can be sure that he will make any use of whatever his purchases are.

The young woman sighs and sets down her cup.

‘Hey, Doc,’ she speaks in a melancholy tone, ‘I know that your employing me was nothing but charity. I’m completely aware of it, you don’t need to lie.’

Taken off guard by the sudden turn in the conversation, Halsin turns around with a lifted eyebrow.

‘Karlach, what are you talking about?’

‘No, but really, Doc, I’m not trying to go all emotional on you, but it’s true. I’ve got no qualifications, no diplomas, nothing, yet you still took me in. And I’m super grateful.’

Karlach shrugs and smiles at Halsin.

‘I might not know much, but I know charity when I see it. So, I was wondering if you would trust me to bring that charitable side of you one more time.’

‘What do you mean?’

She nods towards the computer screen and takes the mouse, scrolling through the catalogues for both pillows and onesies, keeping herself from gasping at most of the prices.

‘These are expensive as hell, and I know what I’m talking about,’ she scoffs. ‘But, see, there’s a friend of mine who’s in a bit of a pickle. He might lose his job if he doesn’t do some community service first. Thing is, he’s not the easiest person to live with, he’s got quite a temper, so nobody takes him in. I know that it doesn’t sound like the best of plans, but I can testify that he’s amazing with a needle! He could do his community service here and make the pillows and onesies himself. Perhaps even do some extra chores when you need him to. That will cost you much less than any of that pre-made crap!’

Halsin pauses to consider her words. The practice already needs another team member and he knows it. There are already struggles about the team being so small. If Karlach is busy while he is examining patients, then there is nobody else to welcome other visitors. Another person, even if not a veterinarian, would fix this issue in no time. If they are agreeable, that is, and from what Karlach has said, he finds himself doubting it.

‘Mh. He does not sound very pleasant so far.’

‘Oh, but he is when he puts his mind to it. It might help that I’m working here too. Once he trusts someone, he’s lovely! I mean, he behaves like a cat sometimes, but he’s great!’

He sighs and drinks some of the coffee. It is much too dark, more to her taste, but he does not say a word about it. She made the effort to make it for him, and it is unlike him to bite the hand that feeds.

‘Listen,’ she adds, catching his attention again, ‘I’m willing to be held responsible if he misbehaves. If he messes up, throw me out for even referring him in the first place.’

The veterinarian finishes the cup as fast as he can, chugging the liquid so it does not linger on his tongue too much.

‘He is good with a needle, you said?’

‘A real talent,’ Karlach answers excitedly. ‘He makes some of my accessories in his free time, actually.’

‘Do you think he can start tomorrow?’

Chapter Text

Pushing his sunglasses further up his nose, Astarion grunts for the hundredth time since he hopped into the car ten minutes ago. With his arms folded against his chest and a straw tucked between his lips as he sips from his cup, he blasts Hungry Like The Wolf through the speakers.

After receiving Karlach’s text message the previous afternoon, he has thought of various ways to care about this new mission that could earn his license back. But not a single reason came to his mind. Sure, he likes cats, but that is about it. Ironically, he does not care enough to spend his life around them, while he gladly welcomed his husband’s tressym when they moved in together a few years back.

But after all, as many of his friends and his husband can testify, Astarion is a man of contradictions.

The car stops in front of a typical old house, whose ground floor has been refitted to welcome a shop or, in this case, a veterinary practice. What a peculiar location for such a thing, he finds himself thinking. It differs greatly from other surgeries he has walked by in the city. Most blend in with neighbouring shops and few notice it unless they peek in or especially look for it. Emerald Grove, on the other hand, stands out by occupying the lower floor of a historic home on the forest’s edge. Most curious choice.

Gale presses the handbrake button and smiles at Astarion, giving him a soft caress on the cheek.

‘Time to go, Starry,’ he murmurs tenderly. ‘You have a good day, mh?’

‘Don’t call me that,’ Astarion replies curtly.

His husband sighs and drops his hand onto his lap. Astarion eyes him from behind his sunglasses and grimaces. No matter how often he has advised Gale against it, he finds it obnoxious how his partner insists on dressing like he is an old-timey esteemed professor at one of the best universities of the land when in reality, he is merely a history teacher at a senior school. On weekdays, Gale is much too reluctant to part from his tweed suits and his antique pocket watch he merely carries around because he believes it makes him look cool. The watch itself has long been unusable. But, as he always says, at least it gets the time right twice a day.

What a dork, Astarion scoffs internally. Yet he cannot help but ogle how the tweed embraces his husband’s curves.

‘Astarion? Are you listening to me?’

‘Huh?’

Astarion snaps back to reality and looks up into Gale’s eyes, elegantly surrounded by browline glasses. Years of being hunched over books even in poor lighting does that to a man.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbles, taking another sip from his cup, ‘I was thinking about something else.’

‘Mh,’ Gale responds, knowing quite well where his partner’s eyes have wandered. Not that he minds. ‘I was saying that too many places have refused you for your community service. Without your salary combined with mine, we can’t pay for the house, and you know quite well that it will take us even further away from the city, and that’ll make you miserable.’

His finger strokes the paler man’s jawline.

‘Can you promise me to make an effort this time? I’m worried about you, you know?’

‘Well don’t be,’ Astarion snaps. ‘I just couldn’t care less about these missions they want me to take. I don’t care about the community, I just want my godsdamn job back.’

‘And it will happen, but first, you need to make these hours and redeem yourself. It’s merely three months, Astarion, it will be alright. Plus, see the bright side of things, you’re going to work with Karlach!’

‘That’s the only reason why I came.’

‘No, not really, the other one is that I drove you here.’

Astarion glares at Gale, and the latter laughs as he presses a kiss to his partner’s cheek.

‘Come on now, mister, time to go. Call me when you need me to pick you up, or if Karlach is bringing you home, alright?’

‘Alright,’ Astarion grumbles.

‘Have a nice day, my love. And say hello to Karlach from me.’

‘Mh.’

The pair shares a fleeting kiss and Astarion drags himself out of the car. He waves his husband off, and before he can even make a step, he hears the door of the practice fly open, followed by a squeal.

‘Fangs!’

Karlach leaps out of the practice and enfolds him into a back-snapping embrace as she lifts him off the ground, squealing again. Astarion kicks his legs and grunts.

‘Ow, ow, ow, Karlach! Down!’

‘Whoops, sorry, soldier.’

She puts him back on the ground with an embarrassed chuckle as she looks at his friend.

‘Looking dapper for an interview to work at a vet’s office,’ she notes, eyeing his pristine white shirt and straight brown trousers whose hem stops about two inches above his waxed brogues. On his hip rests his brand-new brown satchel.

‘Well, this outfit certainly looks better than your blue sapphire scrubs, Karlach.’

‘Aw, damn! Halsin said they were teal!’

Astarion rolls his eyes and drinks from his cup again.

‘Anyway. Tell me of this… Halsin . What should I know about him?’

‘Oh, you’re going to love him! He’s great! Super nice, good with animals and all.’

‘I hope so, he’s a vet .’

His friend cackles and nudges him towards the door so they can enter together. As the two stand by the reception and Karlach shows him her desk and the waiting room, Halsin comes in, alerted by her enthusiastic talking. He beholds the tall and slender man with sunglasses on his nose and silky, curly white hair combed back, except for one lock grazing his eyebrow.

‘Good morning,’ he chimes, holding out his hand, ‘I am Halsin, the owner of Emerald Grove. You must be Astarion Ancúnin?’

‘Actually, it’s Astarion Dekarios-Ancúnin,’ the man corrects him while shaking his hand.

‘My apologies. Karlach told me much about you yesterday, but I believe I still have much to learn about you. Would you mind coming with me to my office so we can have a proper introduction?’

‘Sure.’

Halsin grins and shows him to his office, pulling up a chair for him and sitting at his desk himself. He turns around to face his guest, examining his every gesture. Although he is now indoors, Astarion seems to have a mind to keep his sunglasses on.

‘Would you like some tea, Mister Dekarios-Ancúnin?’

‘No, thank you. And uh, Astarion is fine.’

‘Very well.’

The veterinarian leans back against his chair, remembering what Karlach told him about her friend at the end of their shift.

‘So, let us go straight to the point, shall we?’ Halsin suggests, noting the reluctant demeanour of his interlocutor. ‘Karlach told me that you were in a bit of a pickle, as she phrased it. She said you need to do community service so you do not lose your job?’

‘Indeed.’

‘May I ask what this pickle is?’

Astarion sighs and sets his cup down on a small file cabinet next to him, before reaching into his satchel. He takes out a thin binder with all the documents relating to his current situation, forms that must be filled in should Halsin decide to take him in, and other decisions made by his firm’s board and the judge. He hands it over to his host, who skims through the carefully sorted file.

‘I work as a lawyer in the city for the Szarr Associates,’ Astarion begins to explain nonchalantly, having explained the whole story countless times already to the point where it has become almost mechanical. ‘And I messed up. I was on thin ice already because some of my colleagues suspected that I breached my clients’ confidentiality on multiple occasions and used that to win their cases. Plus, a few of my recent clients fired me from their cases. That was a new development in my career, truth be told.’

He runs a hand through his hair and drinks. Halsin continues to peruse the document with a crease on his brow.

‘But one night I was caught drunk driving, speeding, and shouting obscenities to the police. My driving license has been taken away, and my firm has decided to temporarily suspend my license. I got away easy only because the judge knew me well and felt pity for me, or something of the kind. He said that if I could do three months of community service, I could ask for a hearing and I could potentially get my license back and work again.

Halsin closes the binder and hands it back to Astarion. A pang of worry tugs at him. Even though the younger man is Karlach’s friend, so far he does not strike him as somebody who can be trusted. Thankfully, it is not another veterinarian he is seeking, but merely someone who can complete sewing projects for him so the animals under his care can receive the best care he can offer. Yet, he finds it quite important to trust everyone working at his practice. He has not saved up for years to have one element throw his life project away.

‘That does not look too good on you, I am afraid,’ he confesses to the younger man. ‘Have you already done some hours for your community service?’

‘Of course,’ Astarion replies, his voice dripping with quite misplaced sarcasm, ‘I have done my hours, that is why I came here!’

‘How good are you at sewing?’

His sudden, off-topic question seems to throw Astarion off guard. He stutters for a moment, wondering whether all of this is a joke, a bad prank organised by Karlach. No. She would not do this to him in such trying times, especially if Gale is already breathing down his neck instead of nibbling lovingly at it. Ugh.

‘Sewing is my favourite hobby,’ he answers, a bit more quietly and seriously this time. ‘Would you like me to show you some pieces?’

‘By all means!’

Astarion reaches into his pockets and stands up for a moment to give Halsin a single twirl.

‘I made this outfit, to begin with,’ he says, slowly gaining in confidence. ‘Just not the shoes, of course.’

He sits back and begins to scroll through his social media to find photos of clothes and accessories he has created over the years. Halsin rolls his office chair to come next to him and look at his screen. Astarion shows him a variety of projects, some that the veterinarian believes to be worthy of the greatest designer brands.

In one photo, Astarion poses in a burgundy blazer with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Three thin chains hang from one hem to the other, resting against his torso, clad in a black, skin-tight turtleneck. The second picture of the post displays the back of the blazer and its magnificent floral design, embroidered with silver and gold thread.

Another post shows him again, modelling a striped shirt, unbuttoned at the top and tucked into elegant corduroy trousers. On his head rests a broad felt hat, which he customised with a different ribbon and feathers for a vintage and extravagant look.

The next one shows Gale shyly exhibiting a purple jacquard waistcoat, accessorised with his pocket watch, of course. Astarion tells Halsin that, while he did not make the jacquard pattern himself on the fabric, he did embroider the hems with golden thread and used antique buttons because he knew that his husband would be crazy about them. And he had been right, it seems, since Gale nearly wept with joy at their sight when he first saw the result.

Halsin nods all along, impressed by his skill and his obvious sense of aesthetics. Astarion seems to have quite an eye for it and he does not hesitate to flaunt it even just in the way that he photographed each outfit to post them to his social media.

‘When Karlach said that you were good with a needle, I certainly did not expect this,’ Halsin confesses with a soft chuckle. ‘If anything, she has undersold you.’

‘Karlach does not know how to dose her praise,’ Astarion sniggers, slipping his mobile phone back into his pocket. ‘Either she exaggerates one’s greatness, or she does not do it enough.’

‘The first option is the most common, isn’t it?’

‘Quite right.’

They share a laugh and Astarion drinks the last of his beverage, his suction noises filling the room. He gives Halsin an apologetic look, but the latter shrugs it off, allowing him to catch every last drop before resuming the conversation. 

‘Has Karlach told you what the idea of your work here would be?’

‘Not really. I figured you needed somebody to cuddle with the recovering pets, or to hold them down when they’re reluctant. But now that you mention sewing, I am praying that you’re not asking me to stitch them up during surgery.’

‘Hah, not at all. Let me show you.’

Halsin rolls back to his desk and unlocks his computer. He clicks on the tabs he left open for this interview of sorts and displays the broad pillows he wishes to acquire for his practice.

‘These pillows are quite affordable for me when they are in standard sizes,’ he begins, ‘but I need them much larger. We opened two days ago only, and we had a surprise with our first patient.’

‘A very big shepherd dog?’

‘An owlbear cub.’

If Astarion still had something to drink between his hands, he would have spat it all out in shock.

‘A what now?’

His host laughs warmly and shows him his notebook, where he has scribbled down the approximate measurements he would need the pillows to be.

‘Do you think that you could make, say, three of those to be safe? Perhaps two even larger ones if the need arises?’

‘Are you planning to heal all the animals of the forest? Perhaps an actual bear next?’

‘Hah, I would in a heartbeat,’ Halsin admits with a smile. 'I did think of a wide table for consultations and surgery, but nothing for the recovery. The owlbear was a harsh reminder that any situation can occur and I should be prepared for it.‘

‘I see. Well, that should be doable. I can see how the smaller ones are built and I can make the larger ones from there. That shouldn’t be too much of a challenge.’

Halsin nods in approval and proceeds to open the tab for surgery recovery suits for cats and dogs. Astarion only needs to catch a glimpse of what they are before shrugging.

‘Oh, easy. I have one of these at home from when my husband’s tressym needed to have a cyst removed. I can make some for tressyms, too. They’re built a bit differently because of the wings.’

‘Good thinking,’ Halsin reacts. Another thing he has not considered. ‘If you could make several of these, perhaps enough for a small stock, I would be beyond grateful. These will be given out for certain recoveries only, others will just require the cone.’

‘I can even make these pets look quite fashionable post-surgery.’

The veterinarian laughs, clapping his massive hands once.

‘That will not be needed, that might be a tad much. Practicality and comfort need to be prioritised over beauty here. However, I can compromise and let you choose different fabrics, so long as they are suitable for the animals’ recovery and within budget. I am not strict when it comes to prints, although they must remain presentable, of course.’

‘How about I go home and fetch the tressym’s shirt to study the pattern and I make you one by the end of the day? Then you can judge the quality yourself and base your decision on it.’

Halsin considers Astarion’s offer for a second, then nods in approval.

‘Very well. I will ask Karlach to drive you home so you can fetch your material and equipment and then you can work in the recovery room, there will be plenty of space for you to work. Would that be suitable for you?’

‘Perfect,’ Astarion smiles, internally cursing Halsin for not letting him work from home instead. He has no wish whatsoever to bring all his equipment from his house, but what choice does he have?

‘That settles it, then.’

The two of them stand up and Halsin tosses Astarion’s empty cup into the bin, before showing him back to the reception. Karlach instantly looks up, eager to know how it went. Before she can even ask, her boss hands her a set of keys.

‘Could you drive Astarion to his home so he can bring his equipment here? You can take my car, it is parked on the side of the house. I also would like you to use the company card and let him buy some suitable fabric for his tryout from the haberdashery.’

‘Ugh,’ Astarion groans with a roll of his eyes, ‘from the fabric shop , grandpa!’

‘Sorry?’

‘Nothing!’

Without wasting time, Karlach links arms with Astarion and guides him out to Halsin’s car, already chatting away happily. Left alone at the practice, Halsin sighs and stretches his back, before sitting behind the reception and browsing the latest wildlife photography posts on his favourite blogs and forums.

While his assistant and her friend are away, he answers a few phone calls and makes some appointments for new furry patients. Some of the owners, much to his delight, already tell him that they wish to transfer their pets’ files over to his practice out of practicality, but in some cases, because they only heard praise about his work. He already creates some of the files and sends the right requests to have the medical records passed over to him, then re-organises his agenda.

Four appointments occupy the first half of his morning, all going smoothly. One of his patients, a tiny puppy whose expression when panting always makes it look like it is smiling, came for his very first visit to the vet. Remembering Karlach’s advice, Halsin asks his owner if he can take a picture of the puppy so he can update Emerald Grove’s social media page and build a small community around it. He gives the dog two treats and waves it off as the satisfied owner leaves, eager to find his puppy’s photo online.

Halsin sits back on his chair and writes the post with the puppy’s picture, praising the little dog’s bravery during his first consultation, using its name with the owner’s consent. But as he is about to post it, the door opens and the little bell rings. Before he can look up, he hears a roaring but friendly voice.

‘Halsin, my good friend!’

‘Good morning, Minsc!’ he greets back, locking his phone and putting it away in one of the drawers. ‘How have you been?’

The forest ranger wipes his feet on the mat and steps forward with a beaming grin. Minsc is as tall as he is, making them stand out in town, and probably as broad as him as well. However, unlike the long and plaited locks on Halsin’s head, Minsc’s scalp is bare, only decorated with a purple tattoo that also covers his eye.

Minsc was one of the first people that Halsin met when he came to Heawick, back when he hesitated between settling down here or in Riverway, about thirty miles north. It was, partially, the ranger’s depiction of life in this town that tipped the scales in its favour. The eternal optimist, Minsc described it as a haven of peace, perfect for writers and those who have grown weary of the bustling city. He was quite right, from what Halsin has experienced so far. Everybody knows everybody, even between the neighbouring villages, and it seems that anyone is willing to go out of their way to give friends and acquaintances a helping hand.

Ever since he made his decision to make Heawick his home, Minsc regularly invites him over to his home for the occasional drink in his garden. There could not have been a more friendly face for one’s drastic life change.

‘Minsc has been good, my friend,’ the ranger replies in his thick accent, clapping him in the back. ‘He was wondering if you had some time to see Boo today?’

‘Anything wrong with your hamster, Minsc?’

‘ Miniature giant space hamster ,’ his friend corrects him with a finger pointing up. ‘The distinction is quite important. As vet, you should know.’

Halsin chuckles and notices Boo peeking out of Minsc’s breast pocket, rubbing its head with its tiny paws.

‘Boo is strong and well, only his claws are too long. Minsc told him to wear them down more often on wood, but Boo has mind of his own. A bit stubborn, at times.’

‘That is not a problem at all, follow me.’

He takes the wireless phone from reception and drops it in his pocket while guiding Minsc to the consultation room. Without being asked, Boo hops onto the table, continuing to take his bath. Halsin puts on his gloves and grabs the pet nail clipper. Minsc gently holds Boo in the palm of his hand.

‘Minsc holds Boo. He wouldn’t want him to think that you are foe, my friend! Oh, heard about Mr Bongle from Combury?’

Halsin smiles to himself and nods.

‘I have,’ he speaks quietly while starting to trim the hamster’s claws. As Minsc said, they have not been worn down in a while, considering how curved they are. ‘He confessed to setting up the bear trap in Combury, I heard?’

‘Yes! Minsc thought that Tav would gouge his eyes out on the spot! And honestly, he would not have intervened, no. Minsc doesn’t understand people’s cruelty with animals. Why do it? Animals are friends, unless they try to maul you.’

The concentrating veterinarian chuckles at these words. Tav has not struck him as a woman who would resort to violence, but he has witnessed firsthand how attached she is to her owlbear. Unless relocated, Beaky will never know a neglecting or abusive home, and he is sure of it.

‘Quite right. I do not understand it myself either.’

‘Do you know if Beaky is recovering well?’

‘No, I do not. He went home yesterday morning and I have not heard anything from Miss Ashguard since.’

‘Oh.’

Finishing up the hamster’s hind paws, Halsin moves on to the front pair.

‘She told me that you referred her to an animal protection lawyer. I am glad that you did.’

‘Ah, Minsc only does his job.’

‘Still. With Mr Bongle agreeing to cover the veterinary costs, it was easy for you or even her to drop the matter altogether. But I am happy to hear that you decided against it. Besides, if you or she needs Beaky’s medical report following the incident, I will be happy to make one. You can refer the lawyer to me if they get in touch with you.’

‘How nice of you, my friend! Perhaps it will be handy. Tav will tell,’ Minsc declares, before looking down at his hamster and smiling. ‘Boo will make sure that nobody hurts Beaky anymore!’

‘That is an honourable goal,’ Halsin laughs, cutting the last of the animal’s nails. ‘And here you go.’

‘Thank you, friend!’

Halsin quickly writes down the impromptu consultation in his log and removes his gloves, tossing them in his bin.

‘If Boo is unwilling to walk on wood to trim his nails, I recommend that you use cork wherever it is that he spends the night. If he has a food bowl, coat the path around it with cork so he will walk on it. You can also put some on his wheel, but I do recommend buying one that already has that. I can send you a link for it.’

‘Great advice, Minsc will look for that. Do you hear that, Boo? You need to walk on cork!’

He lifts his hamster and tucks it in his pocket again. After a brief conversation, Minsc pays for the consultation and leaves in even higher spirits than when he arrived. Soon after, Karlach and Astarion return, carrying his sewing machine and a bag of supplies, some that he already owns and others they acquired at the fabric shop.

Karlach takes Astarion to the recovery room and brings him a chair for him to work in a comfortable environment. She closes the door behind her as she returns to the lobby, finding Halsin standing there.

‘Hiya there, Doc! Astarion’s about to start making the shirt.’

‘Perfect.’

‘Anything happened while we were gone?’

‘All four patients were received, and Minsc came to have Boo’s nails trimmed.’

‘Aw, dang! I’m gutted that I missed him, I love this guy.’

She sits behind the desk at reception and checks the agenda for the other appointments of the day. Halsin has a look as well, then proceeds to show her the post he wants to post with the puppy he examined earlier in the morning. Karlach takes his work phone and tweaks the text, explaining as gently as she can — which means not subtly — that his manner of writing makes him sound antiquated.

Halsin takes no offense, however. He is much aware of how little experience he has got when it comes to social media. He used to have his own profile, but besides using it for the occasional farming game, he found little use to it. In truth, he struggled to even comprehend how it worked. There was never any profile picture set, since he did not know how to upload one. It was Karlach who taught him how for the practice’s official page, and even then, he still struggles with it all. Not that it occupies his thoughts much, of course.

Once Karlach has posted the photo online, Halsin leans towards her and whispers.

‘Karlach, this friend of yours, do you trust him when it comes to working? He told me what caused him to lose his license and I must say that this worries me.’

The tiefling smiles, although taken aback by the sudden question.

‘I would trust him with my life, and you know that I don’t give my trust to just anyone,’ she declares with a solemn tone that strangely does little to ease Halsin’s worries.

‘His work… problems , do you know if they are commonplace with him? Do you think I should call his manager at Szarr for a reference?’

‘No need, Doc!’ Karlach responds while waving a dismissive hand. ‘He’s just going through a rough time. Actually he’s one of the best lawyers in his firm! If there’s a dire case, they usually refer to him.’

He nods slowly. He is struggling to figure Astarion out. He is a man who obviously possesses a lot of talent, especially when it comes to sewing. If anything, Halsin cannot wrap his head around the fact that he is a lawyer and not a designer or tailor. Perhaps this sort of career would suit him better.

But what could have driven such a successful lawyer, if he is to trust Karlach’s word, to throw it all away so recklessly? Surely if he has so little consideration for his career, there must be something at hand. If he is experiencing a burn-out, there are other ways for him to cope, and surely Karlach, as his good friend, would have advised him to seek medical help. And if the matter is one of the heart, then that is quite a different problem. She could do her best to help him, but ultimately he has to be the one to cope with the issue. However, it seems that he is married, and the waistcoat that he designed for his husband is quite recent. Merely a month old.

What to do?

‘Well. I will not call his firm,’ Halsin sighs. ‘I will trust you on this.’

‘You will not regret it, Doc, I promise you.’

He smiles at her and pats her shoulder, which instantly illuminates her eyes.

‘After all, it is just for three months and it is merely sewing. Nothing so dire as pet surgery.’

‘Exactly! Plus, he loves sewing and working on his own. He hates it when people are in his space when he’s focused, so that’s a win-win situation if you ask me.’

‘We shall see. The pet shirt will decide.’

Halsin grins and paces towards his office. He sits behind his desk with a sigh and grabs the salad he has been keeping for his lunch break, but since he is already hungry, he prefers to indulge himself already. While chewing his seasoned lettuce, he opens his browser and pauses, thinking about something to search for. He eyes his tasklist but sees that he is up to date already.

Without thinking, he types in the words ‘Szarr Associates’ and reads about the law firm. When skimming an article in an opinionated online newspaper, he grimaces when he reads that the firm has a tendency to save the hinds of big corporation leaders when sued for environmental damage or violation of workers’ rights. Decidedly, that is not improving his image of Astarion.

Putting his fork down, he adds ‘Ancúnin’ to his research and finds a few articles from several sources. He clicks on the first one, a news site supposedly neutral. Under the title is a photograph, and he quickly recognises Astarion in his robes, raising his hand at prying journalists while accompanying a man with a sombre expression on his face.

‘ Big win for Arledrian Group, sued by a worker’s union for an alleged case of salary withdrawal. Wilril Mistflow, 28, joined the union after his employers supposedly refused to pay out overtime hours after several months. When Mistflow demanded to receive his payment, he claims that the company repeatedly withheld his salary, causing him to fail to pay his rent on multiple occasions. “This whole debacle has almost cost me my home,” Mistflow declared to the press. “I can only hope that they will see reason and finally give me what they owe me. I worked extra so I didn’t have to worry at the end of the month, but it’s done just the opposite.” Ruthos Sine, the regional manager of the branch where Mistflow is employed, appeared at court under the counsel of Astarion Dekarios-Ancúnin, a top lawyer from Szarr Associates. The court ruled that Arledrian Group was not at fault and a contract termination has already been issued against Mistflow. ’

Halsin shudders at the thought that Astarion has defended such people and managed to save them from trouble for what seems to him like sheer injustice. He sighs and plants his fork in his salad, trying to put things into perspective. Defending such scum is merely Astarion’s job. Justice cannot be carried out fairly unless all parties are represented, and that only means that Karlach’s friend is a link in this chain. Hopefully that is not telling of his character.

Putting his morals aside for the time being, Halsin finishes his food and spends the day doing his work. About two hours after Karlach and Astarion returned from the fabric shop, they hear the faint clicking sounds of the sewing machine inside the recovery room. Halsin’s worries are somewhat quelled; at least it seems that the deprived lawyer does take his task seriously.

When the last patient leaves and it is closing time, Astarion comes out with a bunch of folded fabrics under his arm. Karlach locks the door and turns the sign on it, while Halsin wraps up his call to a supplier to order more dog kibble for the practice. Upon seeing the pale man, still with his sunglasses on, he rushes the conversation and eventually hangs up.

‘Ah, Astarion, there you are! You did not even take a break, are you not hungry?’

‘Oh, no, I’m fine,’ he mumbles. ‘Big dinner at home tonight anyway.’

‘I see. Did everything go well?’

Astarion walks over to the counter and unfolds all three shirts that he has created. He made them in different sizes, all befitting several types of animals. The first one, cut from an elastic fabric with floral patterns is perfect for a kitten around sterilisation age. Its hems are decorated with pleated green fabric, giving the impression that it has sleeves. The second one, adorned with blue feathers on a white background, stands out with adjustable holes cut out in the back. The third, suitable for a dog, was sewn from a burgundy fabric with paw prints and adorned at the collar with a fake lace ruffle.

Halsin chuckles at the sight of the frills and picks them up to examine the handiwork.

‘We will not need all these fashion details,’ he says, ‘since they are supposed to remain medical garments. But I must admit that the diversity in patterns is something we can offer. I suppose it can help the owners with dealing with the surgery as well. It makes the whole thing seem less dramatic.’

Karlach gasps as she admires the garments over his shoulder. Maintaining a serious and professional demeanour, Astarion steps forward and picks up the second suit to show its structure.

‘This one is modelled after the tressym shirt that I brought as reference. Technically it was just a cat shirt that the vet adjusted for our Tara. Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough push buttons for this one, but I marked where I’d position them on the flaps. They can be adjusted according to the tressym’s wing size.’

‘Quite clever.’

Halsin takes a deep breath and looks the younger man in the eyes.

‘Listen, Astarion, I have done a superficial background check on you. I read that you are quite the prolific lawyer, but your recent… blunders do worry me. If I take you in for your community service, can I trust you?’

The man, put on the spot, is about to grace the veterinarian with one of his usual snarky remarks. But when he sees Karlach giving him a reproving look while Halsin is not looking, he stops the words from flowing out. He merely clears his throat, although visibly bugged by the question.

‘You can.’

‘Uh, Fangs?’ Karlach calls him in a soft tone, which earns her a glare from Astarion. ‘Perhaps you should let him know about your condition ?’

Halsin frowns and looks back at the younger man, who sighs and finally removes his sunglasses. Under them, ruby-coloured irises seem to have been the object of this attempted dissimulation.

‘Oh,’the veterinarian says in a surprisingly calm tone. ‘I see.’

‘Yes, I’m a vampire,’ Astarion scoffs and clicks his tongue. ‘I suppose that it’s the moment you kick me out?’

The older man chuckles and shakes his head.

‘Not at all. If you can promise that the animals and owners here are safe around you, then I see no issue with your condition.’

Astarion appears genuinely surprised to hear that he is not about to be thrown out the door for his nature. His fingers fidget with the tressym shirt as he thinks over a way to thank him. But thanks are not often part of his vocabulary.

‘I promise,’ he declares, biting his tongue.

Halsin considers him for a second, before holding out his hand.

‘If you think I can trust you and if you think you could survive working here for as long as you need to have your license back, then do you think you could come back tomorrow?’

The vampire stares at the hand for a moment and finally allows a smile to grace his cheeks. He shakes his hand firmly.

‘Now that is done, I will discuss some details with you. Since you are a vampire, you are allowed to bring blood into the office as long as you don’t scare the patients and owners off. I can allow several breaks for your back’s sake and you can fetch blood from the butcher’s while on the clock, as long as you do not abuse the opportunity.’

‘Sounds good.’

Halsin nods and pats his back.

‘Welcome to the team, Astarion.’

Chapter Text

Emerald Grove goes through its first week as smoothly as a cog with the winds in its sails. Halsin welcomes a variety of animals in his consultation room for reasons as diverse as the species he has seen. From a routine checkup to heavier surgeries, every animal receives care and devotion in his practice, either from him or Karlach, who never skips on the chance to give the pets a good cuddle before they leave. A few of them need to remain under observation overnight, especially for older patients whose state requires closer monitoring. Before going home at the end of each shift, the tiefling makes sure to spend some quality time with the animals, giving them enough cuddles and kisses to last a lifetime, not hesitating to stay for an extra unpaid hour. Luckily, Halsin has found himself so grateful to have such a dedicated assistant that he does not hesitate to pay her for what they affectionately name ‘cuddle time’.

If anything, Karlach has only improved in her work. Fewer mistakes have been made when logging in patient information or appointments, and Halsin trusts her enough to make new patient files for those who desire to make him their pets’ designated veterinarian. She is a fast learner, constantly working on welcoming anxious owners in the best way possible, offering treats to the pets and sweets to the humans, always slipping one or two extra to the tiny ones.

Astarion’s work is just as qualitative. Halsin cleared the guest room in his own home so the vampire could sew in peace with a proper workspace and in a way that the noise will not disturb or frighten the animals. As promised, he enjoys quite a lot of freedom when choosing fabrics and patterns, and his first shirts were already given away to freshly operated pets in recovery. As far as they are aware, no problems with the shirts have been reported and, in fact, many owners and their children seemed to have felt more in control of the situation by being offered a choice in silly and cute patterns for the recovery shirts.

On Friday morning, everybody is busy with their own task at Emerald Grove. The faint whirring of the sewing machine can be heard through the ceiling, but not so much that it becomes a bother or that it startles you. Every so often, the floorboards crack when Astarion moves around the room to fetch new fabric, patterns or his equipment. Downstairs, playing Led Zeppelin through the speakers, Karlach hums along to the tunes while managing incoming emails or putting away the delivered kibble Halsin ordered on Wednesday.

In his office, Halsin reads the files of his afternoon patients once their previous veterinarians have transferred them over to him. While reading the medical history of a rat struggling with chronic severe itching to see what treatments have already been attempted, he hears his work phone ping. Startled by the sound, he chugs the cold tea he has forgotten, so focused he has been on the record. He grabs the telephone and unlocks it, seeing that a text message has come in.

‘ Good morning Doctor Silverbough, would it be possible to make a medical report for Beaky’s injury? The lawyer from the APO advised me to get one to add more weight to the lawsuit against Mr Bongle. I hope that’s not too much trouble! Thank you in advance. ’

Halsin smiles from ear to ear as he realises that it is from Tav. Without thinking, he puts the phone down and opens a new document on his computer to type in the medical report. He adds all the information he can cram into it, even seemingly minor details to be safe, and joins the X-rays taken of Beaky’s paw before and after surgery to the file. Once all is done, he takes his phone again to answer her.

‘ Good morning Miss Ashguard, this is no problem at all, I am glad that you are asking and I am just as happy to provide for Beaky’s well-being. To which email address should I send it? Doctor Silverbough. ’

Swiping his thumb down, he consults missed notifications and skips some of them. But right as he is about to open an important email, the phone vibrates. Tav answered already.

‘ Would it be possible to print out two copies? I don’t have a printer and it seems that the lawyer is a bit old-fashioned. I will be in Heawick today, I can just pick them up .’

Feeling an odd tingle in his fingertips, Halsin smiles at the screen. On the computer, he sets out to print three copies of the file to be safe, then types in an answer.

‘ They will be waiting for you in my office, then. Come by at any time. I can also put them aside for another day if you do not find the time to come, should that happen. Doctor Silverbough. ’

Then, he hears the little doorbell and puts his phone in his pocket. Time for his duty.

Later on, when all morning consultations are done and the printed medical reports are sorted on his desk, Halsin peeks outside the window. For once, it is quite sunny and warm outside, even for an early spring day. He decides to take his lunch break outside. As he puts his jacket over his scrubs, he lets Karlach know that she can close the practice for half an hour, and that she and Astarion can use the spare key should they wish to fetch something to eat in town. Then, carrying his old cotton sandwich bag, he goes out.

The small park has never looked prettier than on this fine day. As he sits on a sunlit bench, fondly watching the ducks quacking around in the pond, he enjoys his lunch on his own. His phones are silenced for this half hour, his only music is the singing of the birds over his head, although the occasional car disrupts the otherwise harmonious setting. Even when he is done eating, he rests his elbows on the backrest and tilts his head back, welcoming the warmth kissing his traits.

The rustle of plastic bags pulls him out of his reverie. He cracks an eye open and sees Melly, the baker’s mother, dressed in her infamous duck cardigan and carrying her groceries. Out of politeness, Halsin stands up and smiles at the elderly lady.

‘Good afternoon, Melly,’ he greets her warmly. ‘Isn’t it nice to see the sun again after so much rain?’

‘Halsin! What a surprise!’ the woman beams. ‘Oh, quite pleasant, indeed! How has your week been, dear? Everything alright at the practice?’

He invites her to sit down on the bench next to him, gracefully taking the bags from her and holding her hand so she can lower herself onto the small seat. What an unpractical design. They set the bags between them and begin to chat merrily. He tells her about employing Astarion for pet shirts, and Melly is nothing but intrigued to hear about it. He omits the vampire’s legal issues, of course, not wishing to breach confidentiality in the way that the lawyer seems to have done to help his cases. 

‘Now this sounds like quite the week, dear!’ she says while rummaging through one of the bags. She takes out a box of chocolate biscuits and opens it, before pointing it at him. ‘Would you like to share?’

‘Oh, no, thank you Melly. I am trying to watch out. The renovations and the opening completely threw off my eating habits. I want to get back to healthy eating.’

‘Oh, dearie, the occasional snack has never hurt anybody. You should treat yourself from time to time. Still no?’

Halsin chuckles and hesitates for a second before reaching into the box to catch a biscuit. As she does so too, she clinks her cookie against his, as though she is toasting. They laugh and savour the treat in silence, watching the ducks and their bring new twigs towards the little floating nesting box that the town hall had built for them.

‘There should be ducklings about soon, I believe,’ he says enthusiastically.

‘You really do love ducks, Halsin, don’t you?’

There is no hint of judgment in Melly’s voice. Merely affection, as always. Ever since he moved to Heawick, she has given him unconditional support, despite her having no particular reason to do so. At first, it was curiosity that brought her out of the bakery to inquire about the works done to what was once a woodworker’s shop. After a lovely chat during which he invited her in for tea and she brought some pastries, she seemed to have taken a liking to him and never hesitated to watch him work from the bakery and bring him food if she noticed that he had not taken a break in a long time.

Despite his advanced age, Melly is the coddling grandmother he never had. Whenever he sees her, while feeling the urge to be courteous and mannered, he cannot help but feel some childlike joy ignite within him. If anything, she is one of the reasons why he has felt like home from the moment he set foot in Heawick.

‘Mh?’

Feeling the old lady nudge him playfully, he realises that he was lost in thought. He jolts and chuckles.

‘Oh, sorry. Yes, I love ducks. And bears. They are my absolute favourites.’

‘That is good to know. And that explains the little duck on your reception counter.’

Halsin laughs again and sees that Melly is trying to stand up. He rises to his feet and helps her up, then picks up her groceries from the bench.

‘Let me carry them for you,’ he offers.

‘Oh, no, no, son, don’t you bother. You have to go back to work! Besides, I’m stronger than you think for my age.’

She takes the bags from him and pretends to be lifting weights just to make him smile.

‘Well, it seems that you are happy with your week, Halsin, it warms my heart to see it,’ she chimes with a pinch of his cheek. I’ve already heard from Arfer that he was most satisfied with your methods and Clawdia was quite jolly afterwards herself!’

‘That is all that matters to me.’

‘In this case, you should head back. I will see bring you and your two colleagues some treats on Monday. Ta-ta!’

‘Bye, Melly!’

While he waves at her, he takes a step away and feels that his foot is crushing another under its weight and his shoulder knocks into someone’s chest. As the other person yelps and nearly loses balance, he quickly catches them. Embarrassment dusts his cheeks with rosy hues, which only deepen when his gaze meets a pair of beautiful turquoise eyes. His breath catches in his throat instantly. His heart races. If not already holding her by the arms, his palms would grow clammy.

‘Miss Ashguard!’ he blurts out breathlessly. ‘Oh, I apologise, I did not look where I was going. Did I hurt you?’

Tav’s face illuminates in a heartbeat as she recognises him.

‘Oh, hi, Doctor Silverbough! I wasn’t looking either, I’m sorry. But no, no, you didn’t hurt me. Are you alright?’

‘Oh, yes, yes.’

They stare into each other’s eyes for a split second, before clearing their throats and letting go of one another. Halsin scratches the back of his neck.

‘How is Beaky?’

‘He’s doing great! Recovering like a champ, I must say. I’m really glad that you took care of him. You did great.’

‘Thank you. And it was a pleasure.’

Tav tucks a lock of her fiery hair behind her pointy ear and points towards the path she is coming from.

‘Were you heading back to the practice?’

‘Indeed.’

‘May I walk with you?’

‘Of course! I have the files ready on my desk, you can already take them with you.’

‘Brilliant!’

As they walk out of the park side by side, Tav admires the town with her hands buried in her pockets.

‘Beaky’s already going outdoors again, by the way,’ she says, ‘I hope that it’s alright for his recovery. He just couldn’t stay put anymore if I left him indoors.’

‘Was it this bad?’ he inquires with an amused laugh, seizing the opportunity to take in her beauty, although he refuses to admit it, even to himself.

‘Oh, horrible ! He kept horsing around, breaking stuff because he just didn’t feel comfortable inside. He almost knocked down my dad’s ashes. Now that would’ve been hell to clean from the rug.’

Halsin snaps his head around in concern. He observes her expression, which remains oddly calm after mentioning her father in such a nonchalant way.

‘I am sorry for your loss.’

‘Mh? Oh. That’s okay. I’m used to his absence by now, I suppose. Besides, he’d rather have me laugh about it than cry whenever I talk about him.’

‘Were you two close?’

‘When I was younger we were,’ she says, burying her hands in her pockets. ‘But towards the end, we were constantly bickering about my career. He just didn’t approve of it. Not even a revelation in his last hours or anything. He hated it until the end.’

They reach the practice and enter. Karlach’s eyes illuminate with a blend of excitement and mischief as she recognises Tav and notices the fleeting glance she gives Halsin. The two women wave at each other and Halsin shows her to his office. On the desk is a stack of three coloured files of the same size. He picks them up and hands them over to her.

‘Beaky’s medical report. I made you three copies to be safe.’

‘Thank you so much,’ she chimes, taking them and briefly skimming the report. ‘That should be of great help.’

Halsin offers him a warm grin. Oddly, he is not eager for her to leave just yet. They may not have talked for long, but he feels the same tingles in his fingertips as he did when she texted him earlier this morning. What in the hells are they?

As she smiles bashfully at him and turns towards the door, his heart races and his mind nearly short-circuits. He wants to speak with her just a bit longer. Has he been a good host? Probably not. Why would he want to ask her to stay? Foolish. Stupid.

‘Would you like to stay for a cup of tea?’ he blurts out before he can stop himself, causing her to halt and peer over her shoulder at him. He suddenly wishes that he could disappear on the spot. Melt into a puddle. Deflate like a balloon and fly out the window. Catch fire. Anything. Why does he feel so giddy when she is around? He does not know her, neither she does him.

When she blinks while considering his offer, he wants to tell her that he is joking but he knows that he is not. He clears his throat and decides to play it smoothly.

‘I also have coffee and water, if that is more to your taste.’

Tav shrugs and grins. Such a beautiful sight.

‘Tea sounds heavenly.’

‘Right. Um. Have a seat,’ he says, pulling out his desk chair, the most comfortable he has ever sat on. ‘What kind? I can make you mint tea with honey.’

‘Like when I felt dizzy?’ she recollects, tilting her head in the most adorable way. ‘I would love that. It was delicious.’

Halsin nods and disappears into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Just like the first time he met Tav, he takes a moment to take deep breaths to calm his maddening heart. He cannot believe that he is losing his composure like a teenager experiencing puppy love. He is supposed to be professional and serious. This practice has been on his mind for nearly twenty years and he has finally fulfilled his dream. Is he going to throw it all away from the start by developing a crush on a pet’s owner? The first one to have ever walked in his practice, on top of that?

He cannot let this happen. Whatever this is, he must rationalise the situation. First of all, he knows next to nothing about her. Second, she is obviously younger than him, she would be better off with people her age. Third, he is being immature and he should perhaps take Karlach’s advice and sign up on one of these dating apps or sign up to a whittling or wildlife photography club in his free time. He would be meeting other people there. Other women. More appropriate relationship could occur there.

There. His heart is finally quiet. But the boiling kettle is not, yet he nearly misses its signal that the water is ready. He hastily prepares two cups of tea and brings them over to his office.

He finds Tav reading the report while gently swinging from side to side on his desk chair. When she hears his footsteps, she looks up and closes the files, putting them away for safety, should she accidentally spill her cup.

‘Thank you!’

Halsin smiles and sits in front of her on the stool that originally stood in his guestroom but swapped for the chair so Astarion can work comfortably. The clinking of her spoon against her cup as she stirs the honey while holding the branch of mint soothes him. His office often feels much too lonely, and finally having someone visit him there that is not Karlach or Astarion feels rather special to him.

‘So,’ he starts, trying to break the awkward silence, ‘you mentioned earlier that your father disapproved of your career. What awful path is it that you chose for him to be so against it?’

Tav chuckles and takes a first sip of the tea, grimacing as she burns her tongue.

‘I compose radio and commercial jingles.’

‘That is quite interesting, actually! Anything I might have heard?’

‘Probably not, unless you listen to the radio. The commercials aren’t broadcast widely, they’re mostly local.’

‘Do you like what you do, then?’

She shrugs and dares to take another sip, which finally comes easier to her. Just like him, she wraps her hands around the cup to savour its heat and takes a second to smell the mouth-watering blend of minty freshness and the heartwarming sweetness of the honey.

‘I do, but I wish I could aim higher. Ah, at least my schedule gives me enough free time to discover the region. Sometimes I can go for months without commissions, so I do need to find temporary jobs to survive. At least my dad taught me how to be a good moneysaver.’

‘That is important. I hope you will manage to sign bigger contracts, eventually.’

‘So do I,’ she grins. ‘Anyway. May I ask you when you settled down in Heawick? I can tell you’re not from here from your accent. It’s not too obvious, but there’s a hint of one. Are you from… the east?’

Halsin laughs softly and the tingles resume. Godsdammit . How dare she pay attention to the way he speaks?

‘I am! I arrived about six months ago. I bought the house upstairs and I am renting the office space for the practice. I find it somewhat silly that they came separately, but it is working so far. But I am hoping to buy it by next year, provided that all works well.’

‘Ah, yes, I remember the two being separate.’

‘How did you know?’

Tav drinks half of her cup, sighing contentedly as the drink flows down her throat.

‘I actually made an offer for the house. I made it to the final list, but it seems that your case was stronger than mine.’

He widens his eyes in surprise. The unreasonable voice in his brain whispers to him that it is fate bringing them together, but its resisting rival reminds him of the list he made in his mind earlier. He does not know her. She is younger. Dating apps.

Hiding his reaction as best he can, he takes a sip and downturns his gaze.

‘I apologise, had I known…’

‘Oh, no, not at all! I’m glad you got it. Everyone’s so happy that the practice opened, you know? That was the talk in Combury for the whole week!’

Blushing at the prospect that the idea he has been cultivating for years brought such joy to the community he has been meaning to serve and help. He cannot deny that the sole knowledge of it is bringing him to the highest highs. Within the first week, he has already achieved what he assumed would take months to establish. Trust is easily given within and across these towns, it seems. It is much different where he comes from.

There, despite towns being as small and close to one another, few people reached such levels of altruism and compassion as he has experienced in Heawick. Where he grew up, too many members within the same circles turned on one another over the pettiest quibbles. That was precisely why his parents preferred to take him and retire into a tightly-knit community, closer to nature.

His love for animals and the environment stems from this peculiar upbringing. Reverting to a simpler way of life, Halsin was raised surrounded by the same familiar faces who took turns in caring for him whenever something came in the way. Whenever his mother or father became ill, there was always somebody jumping in to help with chores or with feeding him. If anybody encountered a problem in their life, the community strove to tend to them as best they could until the person finally jumped over the obstacle.

Meditation in the forest was commonplace as well, and he quickly learnt to care for the animals that inhabited it. Despite being homeschooled and isolated from the rest of civilisation, he often snuck out to study in libraries and research things that he had never heard about when among his folks.

Indeed, not everything about it was as idyllic as it may sound. If a member decided to leave and pursue other interests or another lifestyle, they were shunned and became the object of much gossip. If the person had children, then they could no longer come in contact with the children of the community, no matter how well they got along. Many ties were severed abruptly in his youth as more parents realised how this concept that, while coming from good intentions, had turned rotten and corrupt.

As soon as he was old enough to gain independence, Halsin fought to leave the community. While ‘civilisation’ in itself never particularly attracted him, he believed that there would be something in-between this seemingly carefree group and the bustling, polluted city. And he found it in little towns such as Heawick. Ever since he left his family, never to speak to them again, he stuck to smaller populations, which always brought him comfort from their numbers alone.

Adapting was decidedly difficult at first, but once he found a way to fend for himself with the support of charities and organisations meant to help people like him, living in the semi-civilised world began to feel natural. He received a proper education to fill in the gaps in his general and specialised knowledge, and he was eventually able to study to become a veterinarian. And it was during his studies already that the idea of opening his own practice to connect people and serve them sprouted.

Now, it has blossomed. And what a blossom it is!

Halsin finishes his tea and leans against the table beside him, gazing at Tav.

‘Why Combury, then? Since you wanted to settle in Heawick, why did you not look for other houses?’

‘The house on Birch Lane wasn’t on sale yet, so there weren’t any other options in Heawick itself. And… I don’t know, I really wanted to live by a forest, so Combury was the other logical choice. Now I’m renting my house, which is on the forest’s edge like yours, and I own a patch of field behind it because of Beaky.’

‘Does your landlord agree with Beaky living on the property?’

‘I didn’t tell him. That’s why I try to keep Beaky on the field as much as possible. He’s happier there anyway.’

He tilts his head in disapproval.

‘You should tell him. It is a bad idea to keep it from him. I would not want you to be in trouble because of your kindness towards Beaky. Perhaps you can compromise on certain things. Just… Do not leave them in the dark.’

‘I know, I will. I just don’t know what to tell him,’ she admits, drinking the rest of her cup. She then glances at her wristwatch and stands up. ‘I’m afraid I must go, I’ve got an appointment shortly.’

While Halsin stands up and gathers the cups, she grabs the copies of the medical report and slips them inside her bag. He escorts her back to the reception, even forgetting to take the empty teacups at all, so eager is he to spend every second with her. When they find themselves near Karlach’s desk, unknowingly piquing her curiosity again, Tav rummages through her bag.

‘How much do I owe you for the report and the copies?’

The question takes him aback. Perhaps he is supposed to charge her even a small fee for making him work on Beaky’s case again, but honestly, he does not have the heart to do it. After all, if this lawsuit can help with granting her compensation for the strife caused by Mr Bongle while showing that the court cares about wild animals as much as it does pets, then he can only be glad to have participated.

‘Nothing at all,’ he says warmly. ‘It was my pleasure.’

‘Doctor, you’ve worked on this file and used precious ink and paper so I could have everything. Please, tell me how much I owe you. It’s only fair.’

Halsin gently places his hands around hers as she pulls her wallet out of the back. Unbeknownst to him, Tav is a blushing mess when he does it. It only lasts a split second, yet it is enough to turn her assurance into bashfulness and to nearly create an explosion as Karlach suppresses the urge to scream ‘I told you so’. 

‘I insist. Beaky’s well-being and his safety are worth much more to me than money. I assure you.’

Tav sighs, but a smirk curves her rosy lips. She takes out a note equivalent to a hundred gold coins and slips it into the tip jar on Karlach’s desk. Both the veterinarian and his assistant stare with wide eyes as she does so, not having anticipated her gesture, let alone the amount that she put in.

Before he can react at all, Tav takes his hand and gives it a firm shake, adding to his sheepishness.

‘Thank you again for your help, Doctor Silverbough.’

Halsin sighs as though he has been holding his breath for a thousand years. Still shaken up by her donation, his handshake is not as firm as he means it to be, and he wonders whether she would take it as an insult. Probably not. The people in his region would, though.

‘Thank you for… Well. The donation. Thank you.’

Tav chuckles and shakes his hand again, and this time, he does not disappoint.

‘Have a good week-end, doctor.’

‘You too, Miss Ashguard.’

‘Goodbye, Miss Cliffgate!’

Karlach, quite speechless from the scene she has just witnessed, waves at her with a smile. She cannot help but boil inside as she suppresses the flaming hot urge to gossip about Halsin’s crush on Tav with Astarion.

Once Tav has left, Halsin is still facing the door, quite dumbfounded. He then hears a hardly dissimulated squeal as Karlach stomps her feet on the floor and drums her fingers on her desk.

‘Doc, do I get to tell you “I told you so” or not yet?’

He peers over his shoulder at her, raising an eyebrow.

‘Sorry?’

‘You have the ninth-layer-of-the-hells-hots for Miss Ashguard! Look at you, Doc! What was that about? Her touching your hand? Shaking it twice ?!’

‘You are reading too much into things, Karlach.’

Halsin attempted to distract himself from the allegation by taking a distracted look at his agenda and checking the time. The tiefling elbows him playfully and pokes her own nose.

‘I’ve got a flair for romance, doc. Who do you think played matchmaker with Astarion? He’s married now!’

‘Miss Ashguard is the owner of an animal who happened to be treated and operated here. Our relations are purely professional. I have a code of honour.’

‘But you’re dying to breach it. I can sense it.’

Growing frustrated by the situation more than by Karlach, he rolls his eyes and prepares the consultation room for the rat with recurring skin rashes. The rest of the days go by as smoothly as the rest of the week, and there comes the time for the team to close up shop for the week-end. Astarion joins them, carrying his sewing machine and a bundle of pet shirts of all sizes he gives to Halsin. Once he has taken a brief look and approved of them, he brings them over to the small storage room and sorts them into several boxes according to species and size.

While the vampire fetches the rest of his personal equipment and brings them downstairs, Karlach squeals as she gazes out the glass door. Halsin frowns and comes by her side to observe what is going on. Coming out of an indigo car is a man about ten years younger than him with brown and grey hair combed back yet maintaining a carefully tousled appearance. His purple shirt is unbuttoned at the top, revealing some of his chest hair and a peculiar symbol tattooed into his skin. In his hand wearing a simple golden band, he carries a thick bouquet of red roses.

Astarion, hating when he is left out of gossip, comes to look with them and lets out a groan.

‘Ugh, he should know by now that I hate flowers. What a silly gift!’

Halsin rolls his eyes with a smile and unlocks the door as the man approaches. He holds out his hand to him.

‘Hello, you must be Mr Dekarios-Ancúnin!’

Gale chuckles and shakes his hand firmly, acknowledging Karlach with a bright grin and a wink.

‘Just Dekarios, actually. I’m afraid that only one of us was allowed to change his name, and Astarion insisted,’ he responds with his usual charming demeanour. ‘You must be Doctor Silverbough.’

‘Halsin is fine. Please, come on in.’

‘Then Gale is fine too! Thank you.’

Upon seeing Astarion, who is forcing a smile despite hating the fact that he is being given flowers, Gale beams with pride and affection unlike anything Halsin has ever witnessed before.

‘Hello, my love!’ he chimes, going towards his husband to kiss him. ‘This is for you, for completing your first week without being fired!’

He laughs merrily, before slipping his hand into the vampire’s.

‘Jokes aside, I’m so extraordinarily proud of you, Astarion. Really. So I thought that maybe we could celebrate it tonight?’

‘Mh. Thanks,’ Astarion replies curtly at first. Thankfully, his grimace does not last as he notices the sincerity in his husband’s gaze. He returns the kiss and nuzzles the other man’s nose. ‘ Fine .’

‘Great! I already have something planned.’

‘Ugh, this better be a hot bath with candles and wine.’

Gale simply winks, yet this is enough for Astarion to smile giddily. The teacher picks up the sewing equipment to help his husband carry it to the car. Everybody goes their own way, the couple to their car, Karlach to her motorcycle, and Halsin upstairs to his home.

After this busy day, Halsin takes a warm shower and only puts some underwear on before dragging his feet, clad in bear-shaped slippers, towards the couch. He lies down on it and covers himself with his favourite plaid, before switching the television on. He zaps from channel to channel until he finds a documentary on the ocean’s wildlife. He makes himself comfortable and takes a moment to finally relax after work, doing something he truly loves.

That is, until his work phone pings.

He sighs and picks it up from the coffee table to check the notification. His face instantly illuminates as he sees Tav’s name on the screen.

‘ Thank you again for the reports! You’re truly an angel! I forgot to ask you something earlier, I was wondering if you’d accept to be Beaky’s designated vet? Like people have their own GP? ’

Without the need to think, his thumbs type his answer.

‘ It was my pleasure, Miss Ashguard. I usually do not do this, but Beaky was an exemplary patient, so why not? I will create the patient file over the week-end, so you have nothing to worry about. Enjoy your evening. Doctor Silverbough .’

He runs a hand across his face and places the phone beside him on the blanket to divert his attention back to the documentary, which is now showing footage of a shoal of fish swimming in a set pattern. Nothing short of mesmerising.

When the ringtone plays again, he instantly checks his screen with an impressive reflex.

‘ Thank you! Apparently, that’s the only thing I’m able to say to you, haha! Enjoy your week-end, doctor, see you next week!’

Next week? Huh. Beaky’s appointment is not before two weeks. Ah, for now, it does not matter. He will see her then. If he gets to see her in the week to come, he will be just as glad.

The prospect alone releases butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

Chapter Text

‘Ah, Halsin, there you are!’

‘Good morning, Jaheira,’ he greets the florist back with a bright grin. He wipes his muddy shoes on the rubber mat outside until they are presentable enough to go in. Behind him, Scratch sits at the door, unleashed, waiting for Halsin to be done with his visit before heading home.

Jaheira grins at the white dog and whistles, calling him inside. The dog eyes his owner hesitantly, but when the latter gives him an approving nod, Scratch trots up behind the counter to be petted by his host. She grabs the banana she was snacking on and takes off a piece she offers him.

Halsin approaches the counter and smiles at the sight, always happy to see that his dog is accepted somewhere. While petting Scratch behind the ears, Jaheira looks at his visitor and smirks.

‘Walked around the forest this morning again?’

‘Indeed. The weather was perfect, but last night’s rain made the ground a bit soft, as you could tell from my boots.’

‘It’s always like that. At least they say that this spring will bring more sunny days than usual,’ she adds, chuckling as the dog lies down at her feet. ‘Anyway, did you happen to see Minsc at all? I’ve been trying to call him for two days because he ordered a fresh bouquet, but now the flowers are waning.’

He leans on his elbows and fidgets with one of her business cards on the counter.

‘I did, he was patrolling the area by the other bridge. Had I known, I would have reminded him.’

‘Oh, don’t bother. It’s always like that with him. He tends to forget what he orders on a whim. He’s always ready to support my shop since I opened but he never picks up his orders. He did, once, but that was a flower for Boo’s birthday and he ordered flax seeds. That was it.’

They share a laugh. Minsc certainly is quite the character, anyone meeting him can tell. Quite eccentric compared to the rest of Heawick, but he adds to the charm of the community. Whenever somebody needs help, whether when the flower shop was merely an idea sprouting into Jaheira’s mind or with Beaky’s incident with the bear trap, he never hesitates to lend a hand, even though it tends to distract him from his daily tasks and chores. Yet, there is no better forest warden.

Jaheira flips through the pages of her logbook and finds Halsin’s recent order.

‘So, the spider plant, was it?’ she says absent-mindedly. ‘Found a gorgeous one for you. Fluffy, in good health. Perfect for your counter.’

‘Eager to see it!’

She chuckles and heads to the back to fetch the plant. She returns with precisely what she promised him, setting it down on her counter for him to examine. He touches the long leaves between his fingers, sensing the freshness of their greenish white stripes and admiring the way that they curve elegantly around the gold-painted bucket serving as its display pot.

‘What a beauty!’ he coos, his eyes sparkling in awe. ‘How much do I owe you?’

‘Eighteen gold coins.’

‘Perfect, thank you.’

He takes out and begins to rummage through his coin purse, which takes Jaheira by surprise and causes her to smile. Shaped like the head of a teddy bear, its fur is made from light brown fleece, and the eyes and nose are embroidered in black and pink thread. He bought it at a flea market a few years ago on one of the rare holidays he allowed himself to take. Many raised an eyebrow to see a grown man buy it for himself, but even though he is far from materialistic, it is one of the few objects that he has grown particularly fond of.

He places the eighteen gold coins in the palm of Jaheira’s hand and slips two more into her tip jar.

‘Thank you,’ she says with a brief bow of her head. ‘Don’t forget to repot it from time to time, the roots tend to grow fast. And water it once to twice a week. It’s usually alright if you skip a week, as long as you don’t do it for a month straight.’

The veterinarian laughs and watches the florist remove the plant from the yellow pot. He purses his lips and tilts his head.

‘How much for that pot? It suits the plant quite well.’

Jaheira stops and eyes the bucket.

‘Oh, this? Ah, just take it. On the house.’

‘Certainly not,’ Halsin protests, unzipping his coin purse again and counting the coins in it. ‘Name your price.’

‘I insist, take it. I bought it years ago but it doesn’t suit my home, I use it for visualisation most of the time… Or as a pencil pot.’

She nudges it towards him with a wink. With a sigh and a heavy blush, Halsin slips ten gold coins into the tip jar and winks back. Once the plant is back in the bucket, he calls out for Scratch, who seeks one last pet from Jaheira, then rushes to his owner’s feet. The veterinarian and the florist exchange cheerful goodbyes, and the former exits the shop with his dog in tow and the spider plant tucked in the crook of his elbow.

Halsin whistles a tune as he crosses Heawick with his free hand buried in his pocket. He nods politely at everybody he sees with a smile and continues his walk back to Emerald Grove. The town is still awaking from its slumber and some of the shops are only just opening. Sometimes it still surprises him that Jaheira decides to open hers this early, but as she once said to him, she prefers to tackle her daily routine in the early hours, then close one or two hours before most shops so she can enjoy the town herself and have a longer evening to relax or meet up with her friends at the old pub on Westway Street.

Come to think of it, it is not such a bad idea. Shop owners and employees seldom have the opportunity to shop for themselves, unless they work half shifts or rely on partners who have the time to buy everything they need. More often, their only occasion to do so is on Saturdays, but the busy aisles deter quite a few. Since Heawick has a wider variety of establishments of all the nearing towns — not counting the city, of course —, its streets bustle with visitors on that particular day.

As he turns onto his street, he switches hands to hold the plant and fumbles through his pocket to find his keys. When he pulls them out and looks up to make sure that he does not walk too far, he notices the figure of a man peering through the windows of the practice. Dressed in black from head to toe, matching with his silky and spiky raven hair, the man does not seem to have come with a pet and does not seem particularly eager to enter.

‘Good morning,’ Halsin greets him with an eyebrow raised. ‘May I help you? Do you have or need an appointment?’

The man is startled despite the veterinarian’s soft tone. He straightens up and looks over at Halsin, seemingly analysing him in detail. The stranger rubs his index and thumb together and scowls at Scratch, who does not dare approach him at all. His demeanour already betrays the fact that he comes from the richer quarters of the city and is not used to visiting the area at all. There is a haughty air to him in the way that he carries himself, as if the word ‘peasant’ is about to slip off his tongue at any moment to describe Halsin and his shockingly unleashed pet.

‘No,’ he replies in a honeyed tone still tinted with firmness. ‘But I will come back later.’

Without uttering another word, the man spins around on his heel and walks away, leaving Halsin utterly confused with his key in hand. What a strange character.

The veterinarian shrugs it off and enters the dark practice, ushering Scratch inside before closing the door again behind him. He walks over to Karlach’s counter and finds a suitable spot for the plant, making sure to stand on both sides of the desk to ensure that the view is not obstructed for neither his assistant or a patient’s owner. But in the end, he finds that it does not quite fit there with the cards and flyers and tip jar, so he carries it over to the small coffee table in the centre of the waiting room. At least, if the anxious pets munch on the leaves, they will not be sick from it.

After a brief shower and a change into scrubs, he lets Scratch rest upstairs and heads back to the practice to follow the daily opening routine. As he takes a minute to make himself a cup of fruity tea — a bold decision considering how often he drinks his signature mint and honey infusion —, his mobile phone pings. Karlach’s name appears on the screen.

‘ Morning doc, sorry but I’ll be late today, Vixen just won’t start! I’ll be there ASAP, promise promise! ’

Halsin grins and immediately types back as he flicks the light switches on and shuffles towards the front door without paying much attention to his surroundings.

‘ It should be quiet for the first hour, hopefully you will have found a way by then. Good luck finding an alternative! Perhaps you can ask Gale? Halsin. PS: I hope that Vixen will be alright. Too bad that she is not the type of vixen that I would treat at the practice :-) .’

His wrist flicks to unlock the door while he re-reads the message to correct any typos he might have made. Eager to let some fresh air in, he opens the door wide.

‘Morning, doctor!’

Halsin nearly drops his phone when he jolts in surprise, not having expected that somebody might have already arrived. After all, he does not have any appointment planned before an hour. Outside, wiping her feet on the mat, Tav smiles at him with twinkling eyes and a light flush from noticing that her sudden greeting startled him.

His heart instantly leaps inside his chest and his lips mirror her grin.

‘Oh, good morning Miss Ashguard! I apologise for my reaction, I did not expect such an early visit. Is everything alright?’

Tav quickly combs her fingers through her freshly-cut curtain fringe. It suits her incredibly well, he catches himself thinking. The way that it sweeps across her eyebrows, its colour only highlighting the deep blue of her irises… It nearly steals the breath from his lungs.

‘Yes, yes, everything’s fine!’

He steps aside and invites her inside. As she passes him by with a light step, he closes his eyes for a second, savouring the aroma of her flowery perfume. As he realises what he is doing, he clears his throat and follows her to the reception.

‘Do you need anything more for the case against Mr Bongle? Perhaps I have forgotten to include some information in the report?’

She leans her elbows on the counter and does not seem able to eff the smile across her rosy cheeks. The sight, however sweet and pleasant, does stir something within him and he curses himself internally for reacting the way that he does.

‘No, not at all. The lawyer said it was quite complete, actually. She’s revising the case and I just have to wait now,’ she chimes with a shrug. ‘I’ve come here because there’s a stray cat in my street that’s been going around for a while but lately he’s been looking quite thinner. The old lady who used to feed it everyday died a few weeks ago, and I’m not sure anyone feeds him anymore.’

Her gaze wanders over to the rows of kibble bags on the display shelves.

‘I’d like to buy some food for him just to be on the safe side, and since I don’t want to risk giving him the wrong stuff, I thought I’d buy it here.’

‘I see,’ he responds with a nod. His eyes brighten up at the thought that she cares for an animal that is not hers. Most people he has seen refuse to approach stray animals out of fear that they might catch diseases or fleas, and while some caution is always advised, too many of them end up suffering all sorts of infections that go untreated and only cause them agony. Knowing that there is someone like Tav out there caring enough to notice the change in the cat’s weight gives him hope.

Halsin steps back to peruse the selection he has got, heading straight to the cat section.

‘Do you know how old the cat is, approximately?’ he asks.

‘Mmh, he doesn’t look too old. Hears and sees properly from what I know, his fur isn’t too patchy. Some neighbour said the old lady fed him for about three years.’

‘Then let us take one for adult cats to be on the safe side. I suppose that you do not happen to know what type of kibble she gave him?’

‘Not at all. Sorry.’

He nods and asks her a few more questions about what behaviours she has noticed from the cat in general. Once he is able to define a clearer profile of the animal, he picks a bag and sets it down on the counter, pointing at the information written on it with his pen.

‘This is food that is perfect for a cat used to the outdoors, aged five years or more. If it turns out that he is slightly younger, that should not cause any trouble. Since you said that he is on the lighter side, I would recommend thirty grammes of kibble per day. See how much he manages to eat and add a little more if he starts gaining a bit of weight again. But do not give him more than forty-five grammes, since it is likely that he hunts mice or birds on the side.’

‘Noted!’

Reaching into a cabinet behind the reception, he takes out a measuring cup and places it next to the bag.

‘This should help you measure the food without a kitchen scale.’

‘Practical. Alright, let’s take it!’

Halsin smiles and circles the recommended doses on the bag so she does not forget the amount he has told her to give the stray cat. He signs in to his software and enters the right reference to log the sale.

‘Would you like me to add it to your patient account in case you need to buy some new kibble later on?’

‘Gladly,’ she responds cheerfully, leaning her cheek into the palm of her hand while watching him typing on the keyboard.

‘Done! That will be twenty-two gold coins, please. The measuring cup is free.’

Tav takes out her credit card and pays for the bag. Once her wallet is stored away into her small cross-body bag, she carries the dry food under her arm and holds the measuring cup between her fingers.

‘Thank you very much, doctor.’

‘You are most welcome. If anything, I should thank you for caring for the cat.’

She returns his smile and tucks her hair behind her pointy ear, whose tip is reddening. Before he starts staring at it, Halsin drums his fingers on the counter.

‘Oh, before I forget, I beg you not to leave out milk for the cat, because—’

‘— because cats are naturally lactose intolerant,’ she completes his sentence with a smug expression that can be likened to this of a pupil who is proud to show that they have learnt their lessons by heart.

‘Indeed,’ he chuckles. ‘Well, it seems that the cat is in most capable hands, I can sleep soundly at night.’

Tav laughs and readjusts her grip on the bag.

‘When I’m released into society, I’m the type to always bring up that fact and everyone gets annoyed,’ she laughs.

‘At least you are spreading the good word out there. I did not know that you were doing public service on top of jingle compositions.’

‘I’m full of surprises, doctor.’

They share a playful grin, which lingers perhaps a bit longer than it should. His heart stirs when he notices the twinkle in her eye and the subtle reddening of her cheekbones. When her fingers unconsciously loosen around the measuring cup and it slips out of her grasp, he skilfully catches it before it bounces on the floor and hands it back to her.

‘Oh, thanks,’ she mumbles bashfully, tucking it under her free arm. ‘If anything goes wrong with the cat, can I try and bring him here?’

‘Of course. I will be happy to help.’

‘You’re the best! Thanks again. Have a lovely day, doctor.’

‘You too, Miss Ashguard. If you have any doubts, you can always contact me.’

‘I will!’

She waves at him and walks out of the practice. His eyes follow her as he sighs dreamily. However, his distraction is quickly cut short when he finds himself face to face with Astarion stepping inside with a cup of blood from the butcher.

‘Morning.’

‘Ah, good morning, my friend! Could I ask you a favour?’

The vampire grunts and slides his sunglasses up, letting them rest on top of his head. His ruby irises scowl at the veterinarian. Favours are never good in the younger man’s book. Or rarely.

‘I suppose I don’t have a choice,’ he mumbles. ‘What do you want?’

Halsin crosses his arms. No matter how much he tries to connect with him, even if just on a superficial level, Astarion always keeps his guard up and his distance. Honeyed words sometimes ornate his speech, but they never feel genuine, merely a façade that shelters him from others. He does not need to befriend him, of course, but he wishes that they could get along as well as he and Karlach do. But again, everything is easier with her. Sometimes, she might be too social and kind in a world that does not always value such qualities.

‘Karlach’s motorcycle broke down this morning, so she will be late. Do you mind working the reception until she arrives?’

Panic fills Astarion’s eyes right away. He furrows his brow and tries to act nonchalant, but his hesitation clearly stands out.

‘Wh— I don’t even know how any of this works!’

‘Do not worry, I am not saying that you must do all her tasks. If you could keep an eye on the appointments list and welcome the patients, that will help tremendously already. If the phone rings, answer it and write down the names and numbers, I will call them back between consultations. If it is urgent, do not hang up; call for me instead.’

‘Mh. That sounds doable. Alright.’

Astarion walks to the kitchen to drop his jacket and sunglasses, then comes back to the reception. He sits behind the desk and Halsin shows him everything he needs to know. Then, the veterinarian walks into his office and logs in to the general inbox and answers some emails himself.

Soon enough, the first appointment of the day arrives and Astarion directs them to the waiting room, where Halsin eventually comes to call them in. The consultation goes smoothly despite the very reticent puppy howling dramatically at the prospect of receiving one of her first shots. When he is done, Halsin guides the owner and the pet to the reception and registers the payment himself, before offering a treat to the brave puppy.

When they walk out, Halsin’s phone pings again.

‘ Found a way, Dammon is bringing me. Be there in ten. Btw, doc, did you just make a joke?? And use a smiley??! Who are you and what did you do to Doc Halsin??? ’

Halsin laughs and updates Astarion on Karlach’s estimated time of arrival. Before the second consultation, a grumpy customer enters and asks for an anti-flea treatment suitable for a corgi. Once he has explained how to apply the solution efficiently, the veterinarian slithers back behind the desk and Astarion rolls a few inches away with his chair to give him enough space to deal with it all. 

‘Do you already have an account?’ Halsin asks the amber-eyed tiefling, whose tail is whipping around behind him in annoyance.

‘This little shit is not my dog, thank the Gods!’ the customer answers with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. ‘He’s my sister’s.’

‘I see. Does she have an account?’

‘Listen, can I just buy the treatment and go? I feel like I’m being devoured by fleas myself as we speak!’

‘Of course.’

Without protesting, he processes the sale and gives the little pipettes to the young man, who turns around with another scoff and leaves as fast as he can, scratching his head harder than he probably should.

Eyeing the man with concern, Halsin leans towards Astarion.

‘Do you think the dog is at risk with him?’

Much to his surprise, the vampire laughs while filing his nails and admiring the result.

‘Most likely. I know him. Well, know is perhaps a strong word, but I’ve spoken to him a few times. As you can clearly tell, he’s from the city. He’s one of the most arrogant pricks I’ve talked to, and it takes one to know one. He owns a bookshop specialised in academic publications of all sorts, and my husband happens to love the place.’

Could it be? Is he actually opening up by accepting to gossip with him? Not that Halsin particularly likes hearsay and talking negatively about people in their backs, but this exchange already brightens up his day.

The vampire carefully taps his glass nail file on the edge of the bin under the desk to rid it of dust, then tucks it away in its little sleeve.

‘But don’t worry, Rolan’s all bark and no bite, he won’t hurt that pup,’ he continues while shoving the file inside his shirt pocket. ‘You know, he’s clever and all, but Gale took him down a notch a couple of times. You know what? I think my husband’s at his hottest when he gives arrogant people a reality check.’

‘That is good to know, I suppose.’

‘Trust me, doc, I think your next appointment’s here.’

Indeed, the next patient comes in and Halsin welcomes him warmly. Halfway through the consultation, he hears the faint sounds of the sewing machine upstairs, and he concludes that Karlach must have arrived in the meantime and relieved Astarion of his temporary duty.

Halsin does not see her until he finishes the next examination and logs everything into the computer. His assistant pokes her head in when the patient leaves and speaks in a hushed voice.

‘Morning, doc! Uh… There’s an odd chum lurking around in the lobby, doesn’t have a pet or anything and he keeps ignoring me when I ask him if I can help him.’

The veterinarian turns around with an eyebrow raised and instantly rises from his high stool.

‘Go back to the reception, I will talk to him.’

Karlach nods and does as he instructed her, sitting back on her chair and anxiously browsing playlists for something that will calm her nerves while being acceptable to play from the practice’s speakers. Situations like this one is among those she has been dreading most about working at Emerald Grove. Owners losing their pets and leaving without their furry or feathery friends remains the worst of all, but weird and creepy people are close.

In previous jobs, she had her fair share of lurking visitors and customers who made her feel uncomfortable, but the employee handbooks always stated that she could not shoo them away outright. Either a manager or security had to do it. Sadly, it often left her feeling incapable of fending for herself and infantilised.

Soon enough and much to her relief, help is on the way and Halsin arrives, clicking a pen. Without making himself look menacing either, he puffs up his chest slightly. If anybody seeks trouble, he is hoping that his size and his brawn will dissuade whoever stands before him. But as he catches a glimpse of the man in question, his stomach tightens. Intent on not showing his discomfort to Karlach, he smiles and speaks as naturally as possible.

‘Good afternoon, sir. I believe we have met this morning, you were looking inside the practice before opening time?’

The man turns around with a smug smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes so dark that one cannot quite pinpoint their colour. Now that Halsin is closer, he can discern the man’s outfit more clearly. Tucked into high-waisted trousers, his tailored black silk shirt with the top five buttons left undone allows his black chest hair to peek out. His overcoat adorned with golden embroideries has its collar upturned, completely covering the back of his neck. If anything, it gives him a menacing look, as though he is the villain of a fairytale come to life, but dressed as a model.

‘You are the veterinarian who owns the practice, aren’t you?’ the man answers at last with a brief squint of his eyes.

‘Indeed, I am. May I be of any help?’

‘Oh, I am merely looking around.’

As he says so, the stranger buries his hands into his pockets and paces around, inspecting the walls and the layout of the reception and the waiting room. Karlach sneaks a glance towards her boss, wondering how he is going to handle this most peculiar situation. Without blinking, Halsin steps forward, tucking his pen into the breast pocket of his scrubs.

‘May I know what you are looking for, sir?’

‘This is a beautiful working space you’ve got here. Most impressive.’

Before he can press him on, the stranger faces Halsin with a smirk, rubbing his fingers together in the same unsettling way that he did earlier this morning.

‘Tell me, have you ever considered selling this practice?’

Halsin crosses his arms. This time, he has no intention to behave in the same friendly manner. While he knows that escalating such a ridiculous situation would be useless, he knows now that he does not want this man lurking around anymore.

‘No, sir. We have only just opened, thank you very much. Now, if you do not wish to make an appointment or buy anything for a pet, I kindly ask you to leave. I must soon tend to another patient.’

‘Oh, that’s a bloody shame. Well. I’ll see what I can do.’

The man reaches into his inside pocket and takes out a business card, which he hands the veterinarian by tucking it between two well-groomed fingers.

‘In case you change your mind, I would be very happy to discuss it with you. Here’s my contact information. The name’s Enver Gortash.’

Without as much as a goodbye, Gortash walks out of the practice, leaving a dumbfounded pair at the reception. Karlach stands up from her chair, her gaze shifting between the door and Halsin.

‘What in the hells just happened, doc? What the fuck was that about?’

Her boss examines the business card he is holding with a deep frown.

‘I have no clue, Karlach. I am quite at a loss, to be honest with you.’

‘What did he say his name was?’

Halsin hands her the business card. Before she even gives it a look, she sits back on her chair and drags her keyboard towards herself, instantly typing the name in her browser. His curiosity piqued by the results, he joins her behind the desk and leans in to read what comes up on the screen. Karlach clicks on a biographical article from a business-centred media website and begins to skim it.

‘Fuck me, Gortash’s quite the big guy,’ she mumbles pensively. ‘Owns a big company that owns lots of brands itself. Apparently, he’s known for gentrifying the shit out of many neighbourhoods in several cities already. He’s kicked out independent shops to establish a coffee chain and turning flats into offices.’

His eyes scan the same words and the more they read, the tighter the lump in his throat feels. Karlach hands him the mouse so he can peruse the article himself and open others. He checks several sources, and much to his dismay, the information they read in the first article seem to be confirmed through others.

‘I do not like how that sounds,’ he whispers.

‘Me neither, doc. But now that you told him off, he’ll lose interest, right?’

‘Mh. I doubt it. But now I wonder if he has shown interest in other places in Heawick. There is only one way to know.’

The assistant looks up quizzically as he sighs heavily and crosses his arms.

‘If anybody in Heawick knows anything, it is Melly.’

Chapter Text

‘This is bad news, I’m telling you!’

Melly stands by the bakery’s door, wrapped up in a colourful cardigan whose hems she tucks under her arms. Disgruntled by the mention of Gortash, she readjusts her pink glasses on her wrinkled nose.

‘I’ve read about him and his kind,’ she continues without waiting for Halsin to respond, ‘all they want is to deface our villages to bring hordes of tourists that will thrash the place! No more little shops and old markets! It’ll be the same thing a hundred times over in case one milks the cash cow less than the next!’

‘Do you know if anything has been sold to him?’ he asks with a tremor in his voice, settling himself by petting Scratch’s head behind the ears. In an instant, the white dog leans against his leg, as though to bring him some much needed comfort.

The elderly lady merely gives him a shrug.

‘That, I do not know. He came here the other day too, probably when you told him off. My son, that people pleaser, didn't dare kick the man out. I had to do it for him! Good thing that I’m still overlooking things, otherwise he would have sold the bakery there and then!’

A nervous grin crosses his face, but his mind is not at rest. How could it be, when his practice, his cherished project he has put so much passion into, might potentially be threatened? Ever since Karlach showed him articles about Gortash, he has been struggling to sleep at night. He tosses and turns, wondering what he could do to protect Emerald Grove from being sold. More than once, as soon as his eyes grow weary and his lids heavy, the first thing he sees is his keys being wrestled out of his hands and the animals thrown out onto the street. That wakes him up instantly in a cold sweat.

Apparently, this same anguish must be haunting his traits again, because Melly gently squeezes his arm — at least what she can grab of it.

‘Now, do not worry yourself so much, Halsin. Nothing’s settled. That cockroach was merely lurking around but maybe he hasn’t found anything worth chewing on.’

‘I just…’

The veterinarian lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his large palm over his face.

‘I do not want to lose my practice, I have only just opened! I saved every coin I could for years to fulfil this dream. I have no intention to let the big corporation seize it away for their own gain when I know that I am helping the community.’

‘Oh love, they will not. The community will not let them, I am sure!’

Before Halsin can protest or voice his concern further, Melly raises a finger and disappears inside the bakery for a moment, leaving the veterinarian and his dog standing by the queue of hungry locals taking a break from the market. Noticing that he is tapping his foot and clenching his jaw hard enough that the hint of a cramp seizes him, he forces himself to relax and crouches to hug Scratch. Absolutely elated, the dog wags his tail enthusiastically and sniffs the man’s cheek, giving it some playful licks which bring a genuine smile back to his lips.

Perhaps Melly is right. There is no need for him to get himself in such a state as long as no shop or space has been sold to Gortash or anyone of his kind. Heawick is still what it is, authentic and tranquil, unbothered by the bustling crowds. Those who come usually know the place already or know a bunch of souls that have claimed it as their home. Names are easily remembered and recognised, shouted with excitement at one’s sight, accompanied by warm greetings and small talk. Surely, nobody would allow this haven to turn decrepit under the malicious fingers of a business mogul.

As Scratch licks Halsin’s chin, triggering a gentle chuckle from the man, Melly emerges from inside the bakery with a small paper bag she hands over to him. With a quizzical glance, he peers inside and sees four of his favourite pastries carefully nestled at the bottom. He instantly pats his pocket in search of his wallet.

‘How kind of you! Let me see… How much do I owe you?’

‘Oh, love, nothing!’

Melly pats his hand cradling the bag and grants him a reassuring grin, typical of a coddling grandmother.

‘You’re pale and tense, darling,’ she continues, ‘you must eat something, at least for comfort. Perhaps you should clear your mind by taking a walk with Scratch?’

Halsin sighs and ends up mirroring her smile. She is right, there is no use dwelling over this. There is no certainty that Gortash and his plans are a threat to Heawick just yet. Unless one of the shops is sold, the thought of which he is sure the owners would not entertain, there is no worry to be had. Besides, as Melly and Arfer often remind him, there had been a dire need for a veterinarian’s office in the area before Emerald Grove opened. Until then, even for emergencies, owners had to drive their pets at least half an hour to the city to receive care for them. Emerald Grove is a valued place in the neighbouring villages, perhaps this alone could put his mind at rest.

‘Good idea,’ he sighs, eyeing the pastries a second time. ‘Nothing like a long walk in nature to clear your mind.’

‘Good boy!’

Her validation tugs at his lips and lights up his gloomy eyes. They exchange a few pleasantries, then Scratch nudges his owner, having understood that a walk was in order. Munching on one of the little fruit pastries, he returns home to fetch the dog’s leash, treats, and a roll of small bags to clean up after Scratch should he relieve himself before they reach the forest. He tucks the rest of the pastries away in a cool corner of his kitchen to keep them fresh until his return and sits down on the edge of his sofa to slip into more comfortable shoes to walk in the woods.

As he ties up his shoelaces, his mind inevitably wanders to the one memory that brings him any solace in the storm of anxiety.

Tav.

He could not explain why his mind is filled with images of her, of her smile and the slight blush peppering the bridge of her nose whenever she looks at him. He thinks nothing of it, of course. Why should he? She is merely a patient’s owner, and he is certain that once Beaky’s paw is healed, she will no longer seek his help. Yet, despite his best effort, he cannot help but let her invade and haunt his mind. The phantom of her presence, albeit not as satisfying as seeing her in the flesh can be, remains quite soothing to his soul. It is harmless, after all, isn’t it? He is not acting upon anything. No need to question his ethics, there is no ill intent behind any of this daydreaming, and his reflections are nothing but respectful to her.

When he and Scratch reach the edge of the forest, they come across Minsc and stay for a minute or two to talk. Seeing how committed the ranger is to the forest — and to Jaheira’s flower shop — Halsin guesses that the gentle giant is blissfully unaware of Gortash and decides against telling him about it. No need to trouble him. He would probably ignore the situation anyway or misunderstand his worries. Should anything happen, the ranger would eventually be informed of it.

Once Minsc walks away to his office, waving vigorously at the veterinarian and Scratch, the dog pulls his owner towards the forest, eager to continue their stroll.

Secluded from the bustling marketplace, the forest seems more appealing than ever to him. The sun’s rays sparkle upon the lofty branches of the oak trees and filter through the green leaves. Dancing haloes illuminate the roots protruding from the cool earth, revealing the hundreds of tiny insects fluttering about. Beds of foxgloves and poppies surround and dot the woodland, adding bright colours to compliment the green of the leaves and the browns of the barks. Beyond the opposite fringe, the fields constituting the typical landscape of the region roll towards the horizon, with their crops finally reaching out towards the sky, readying themselves for blooming and reaping.

Scratch dashes between the trees, his tongue lolling out happily as he hops over the roots and taps his paws on the dead leaves and plants coating the ground as he waits for his owner to catch up with him. Halsin, with his hands resting against the small of his back, ambles behind with the leash rolled loosely around his wrist and whistling an old tune. As soon as he finds himself beside the dog, he grants him a small tasty treat.

When they near a clearing, some loose tresses of his brown mane flutter in the light breeze reaching him. Closing his eyes and smiling to himself, he hums and tilts his chin up, welcoming the fresh air embracing his face. The past few days have been rather warm for spring, a little gust always makes a difference, even for a fleeting second.

A nudge against his calf alerts him that Scratch is eager to move on. Halsin eyes the grass and hums with satisfaction when he finds a sturdy piece of a broken branch between the blades. He picks it up, throws it ahead, and laughs when the pup sprints to fetch it.

As Halsin watches him gnaw at the wood, he realises how ideal his life has come to be. Back in other villages and towns, life was not nearly as sweet. Too many circumstances and hostile environments smothered him and prevented him from living his life as he wished to. But now that the practice is open and that he has moved into a beautiful quaint house in a friendly community, he feels that he can be himself more than ever. Not that he let outsiders influence his personality much, but he did feel hindered by the norms and expectations of the people who surrounded him back then.

Now, he has built a little world within the confines of his house and practice, and he finally gets to set his own rules and conventions. They are not meant to impede on the well-being of his friends and visitors, but rather to let everyone be who they are without being confined to a precise etiquette. To him, it is rather simple: if you intend to do well by others and nature, then you are most welcome into his world and you can be whoever you are without being shamed for it. If not, then he will do his best to help you, but he will put his foot down and exclude you should your actions cause any harm to anyone.

In a way, that might be why his weariness of Astarion lingers. While his new recruit has not openly done anything to wrong him or any of his neighbours, his professional ‘accomplishments’ and the reason that pushed him into community service certainly do not help Halsin’s perception of him. Neither does his tendency to gossip. However, due to Karlach’s undying loyalty and constant praise of Astarion’s qualities, he keeps his heart open to the vampire. Whether the latter decides to seize the chance is up to him and him alone. Should he refuse and merely complete the hours of community service required to lift his suspension is also fine by him.

Overall, Halsin remains satisfied with his choice to move to Heawick. The open spaces and community have been nothing but warm to him and his beloved Scratch. How else could he repay them than by offering his help to the people in return, at the very least?

Long minutes of solemn contemplation later, Halsin takes the stick from the dog and raises his arm. Just as he readies himself to throw it, the laughter of a child interrupts him. He instantly whistles for Scratch to come at his feet so he can attach the leash to the dog’s collar. Clutching the colourful rope, he straightens up and sweeps the forest to look for the child he heard earlier and make sure to keep his distance if Scratch’s presence triggers any fear within them.

A moment later, a githyanki child emerges from between the trees, flushed from running through the woods. A large smile digs little dimples into his green cheeks dotted with black spots. His curious yellow eyes admire the height of the treetops and a gasp escapes the little boy as he spins around, as if to capture it from different angles.

The boy’s elation comes to a sharp halt as he realises that he is not alone. Sheepishness instantly seizes him and causes him to take a few steps back. His heel catches into a small rock and the child topples over, landing heavily on his buttocks in a loud thump and crunch of the leaves. Wasting no time to intervene, Halsin attaches Scratch’s leash around a low-hanging branch and rushes by the child’s side.

Tears flood the gith’s almond-shaped eyes and start to pour down his face as he lets out a howl of pain and shock. Halsin inspects his legs for any wound, but sees nothing.

‘Did your elbows hit the rock, child?’

Sniffling heavily, the child shakes his head and responds with heavy sobs. Since he sees no scrape or injury, Halsin helps the child up, gently lifting him off the ground and making sure that there is no discomfort as he moves.

‘Everything seems alright. More fear than harm,’ he attempts to reassure the child, patting his back to rid his jacket from dry leaves and dirt.

Right as he does so, hurried footsteps resound and a heavy breath fills the air, accompanied by the panicked shrill of a woman.

‘Trith!’

Halsin’s heart stops. He recognises the voice. A lump forms in his throat as he waves his hand in the air, trying to force a shout back.

‘Over here!’

Just as he suspected, Tav appears in turn and gasps at the sight of the crying child. Halsin steps back and lets her kneel by him, frantically investigating for wounds.

‘Trith, how many times must I tell you not to run off like that?!’ she scolds the boy, clutching him by the arms but demonstrating no hostility or aggression towards him. Before the child can answer, she pulls him into her arms and cradles the back of his head with a heavy sigh. ‘You scared me, darling.’

His sniffles and cries muffled by the fabric of her shirt soon die down as her presence soothes his anguish. Tav looks up and smiles at Halsin. The blush he pictured in his mind earlier expands to her whole face.

‘My apologies, Doctor Silverbough, I didn’t mean to put you in this position.’

‘No harm done, Miss Ashguard. He is safe, that is what matters.’

Tav nods slowly and pulls out a tissue to dry the boy’s tears.

‘Now, what happened, love?’

‘I fell. Tripped on the rock,’ Trith hiccups.

‘I must have surprised him,’ Halsin adds with a sorry expression, ‘I made sure to put Scratch on his leash as soon as I heard the child, but it seems that he was still taken aback that I stood here.’

Letting out a brief chuckle, she pulls out a crumpled bucket hat from her back pocket and screws it on Trith’s head, despite his weak protesting. Tav then faces Halsin again, picking up the boy and letting him rest his head on her shoulder as she tilts her hip to prop him up against her chest.

The sight unsettles Halsin. He could not explain why nor how. There is an alien sensation snaking into his veins and spreading throughout his body, numbing his fingertips with a dull pain. It is as though his heart is darkening at once, yet without resentment. The lump in his throat grows heavier, nearly choking him.

Children. Something he has considered for a long time, but never truly envisioned for himself. His career has always occupied a primary position in his life, one that he could not easily change. His projects for Emerald Grove constantly flooded his mind, which flourished with new ideas with almost every conversation he held. Little did he think about his own meals, let alone a family.

Besides, his plan to drastically change his life and environment would not have been ideal for a child. Uprooting a child, right when they are in their formative years, always resembled cruelty to him. Not if their parents could not help it, of course, every situation is different and he does not blame anybody for it. But as a conscious choice, which could only benefit the parents without any regard to whether the child would blossom into this new setting, Halsin could not fully support it. Perhaps he is old-fashioned in this way. After all, he catches himself reflecting, he knows next to nothing about raising children.

Could it be that the sight of Tav with her child suddenly makes him wish that he had settled down at some point and founded a family of his own? He loves the idea of a family, but as it happens with many others, he probably told himself that he had time for much too long. There he is, in his mid-forties, wondering about having children now that his situation is stable and his goals are met.

No. That is not it. In a way, it is, but it is not.

Is it regret? The venom of the idea that he might have missed out on life? Is it… envy?

Then, as he is about to speak to break the awkward silence setting in, he sees her cupping her stomach with her free hand. The pain now rages in his chest and his fingertips.

All tender notions he had created for her vanish in an instant. Of all things he has considered, such as the moral dilemma of texting her out of the blue or even the mere idea of thinking about her, the fact that she might be taken was a criterion he overlooked. Not only taken, it seems. She is a mother, and this simple, gentle gesture towards her midriff hints at the fact that she might be pregnant again, only not showing just yet.

Good for her, he tells himself. She has got what he seems to have neglected in his life.

Halsin forces himself to smile at her and unties Scratch’s leash from the branch, bringing the dog over with him.

‘So, how is Beaky healing?’ he simply asks.

‘Rather well! Actually, I should hear about the conclusion of the lawsuit around our appointment.’

‘Should I set aside a bottle of bubbly wine to celebrate?’ Halsin teases in good humour.

‘Or to drown our sorrow,’ Tav jests in return, completely oblivious to the veterinarian’s inner turmoil. ‘I might bring one to the appointment.’

‘I will hold you to it, then!’

Her laughter resonates under the canopy of the leaves sheltering them from the rest of the world. For a moment, if not for Trith falling asleep on her shoulder for seemingly running around too long, he is happy here. But he cannot afford to feed himself illusions. He must maintain some professionalism between the two of them.

Tav places a kiss on the child’s forehead and pats his back.

‘I believe it’s time for us to head home,’ she whispers with a grin. ‘He needs a nap.’

‘You have yourselves a wonderful day, Miss Ashguard and Trith. I apologise for scaring the boy earlier.’

‘Oh, don’t apologise, doctor! He will be alright. Have a nice day yourself, and I will see you next week for the appointment.’

‘See you then, Miss Ashguard!’

Halsin nods at Tav and her son and turns around with Scratch at his feet, tossing a treat at the dog. Lost in thought, he hardly notices that he has reached Heawick until he stands in the middle of the pavement and nearly shoulders somebody. He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. It is time for him to let go of whatever is clouding his perception.

Instead of moping around, he shrugs the issue off and walks towards the market, reminding himself that he would like some fresh vegetables to make a delicious soup for himself in the evening. As he peruses the stalls and greets the sellers he already knows, a familiar silhouette appears in the corner of his eye.

Dressed down compared to his usual tweed suits and academic demeanour, Gale sings a tune under his breath while filling a net bag with nectarines and peaches. His plum-coloured polo shirt, left unbuttoned at the top, lets his chest hair peek out from underneath the fabric, and Halsin purses his lips, curious whether such a style would suit him as well outside of work.

Gale catches a glimpse of the veterinarian from above his sunglasses and he instantly lights up.

‘Halsin! What a pleasure to see you here! Enjoying the market as well, I see?’

The professor instantly holds out his hand and Halsin shakes it with equal enthusiasm.

‘I am, indeed! It seems that you are, too.’

Gale nods with a laugh and crouches to pet Scratch. A few groans escape him as he hears his knees cracking from the sole movement and from standing up again. He stretches his back with his hands on the back of his hips.

‘Oof, yet another reminder that my youth is fleeting away!’ he jokes. ‘So, how’s the practice doing? Do you manage to keep busy despite having just moved here?’

‘So far every day has been satisfying one way or another,’ Halsin reflects. ‘I could hope to see more patients coming in, but I suppose that fewer of them rushing to my office is a good sign.’

‘Hah, I suppose! Have you been able to use any of the shirts that Astarion’s been sewing?’

‘Plenty, in fact! Families find it soothing to be able to pick certain patterns. It alleviates their concerns, it seems. I can only salute Astarion’s idea to implement various fabrics into his work.’

A gleam of pride shines in the younger man’s eyes.

‘Astarion does have a good eye for such things. He’s quite talented!’

‘That he is.’

Gale readjusts his bag over his shoulder and crosses his arms, leaning in as if to speak in confidence.

‘But, tell me, is everything going well with him? Work-wise? You’re probably aware that he’s refused to do community service in many other places and that some of them rejected him altogether. I can’t help but worry that he might be reluctant to do his hours again. He has a tendency to self-sabotage sometimes.’

Halsin tilts his head, not having expected Gale’s sudden change in the conversation. But how could he blame him? Astarion’s file was not brilliant, and his temper seemed to linger on the short side.

‘Everything is going well. Astarion is a great asset in our team. He even took over Karlach’s desk once!’

‘He did?’ the professor gasps. ‘Well, I would not have expected it from him!’

‘I am very satisfied with his work, do not trouble yourself. Of course, I wish that I could connect with him a little bit more, but it is obviously something he is not interested in. Fine by me.’

Sighing in relief, Gale places a hand over his chest, letting his wedding ring reflect the sunlight.

‘I can sleep at night again, hah! I could trust Astarion’s word, but I know that he would either snap or embellish things to shut me up.’

The two men amble around the market together, making small talk and inspecting the vegetables from old Almorn, who busies himself weighing vegetables while his wife Breeza shares ideas with a customer to use the vegetables in their hands. Halsin buys what he needs for dinner, overhearing a drool-inducing recipe, and feels Gale gently nudging him as they greet the gnomish couple and walk away.

‘By the way, I heard from Astarion that someone was looking to buy your practice?’

Ah. This subject again.

‘Yes, a man visited and asked if I had the intention to sell the place. I will decline any offer coming my way, if it should happen.’

‘Good, good. He told me that the man owned several coffee shop chains and such. Well, I certainly hope that it’s nothing but a false alarm. I’ve seen how gentrification defaced Waterdeep, and it hurts my heart whenever I visit my mother. Everything that made the city what it was, all that constituted its identity, it’s all trampled by the crowds. I mean, back in the days, I would have loved to see Waterdeep be appreciated by others, not only by locals, but this… This is no longer my Waterdeep. That’s why Astarion and I moved here instead.’

Halsin adjusts his grip on his bag and pets Scratch’s head.

‘I was not aware that you were Waterdhavian, although the accent should have given me a clue.’

‘Ah, it does resurface every so often, doesn’t it?’

‘Indeed, it does.’

As they eye a cheese stand, the veterinarian’s brow furrows. He cannot prevent his mind from wandering back to Tav and the githyanki boy.

‘You and Astarion live in Combury, do you not?’

‘Mh? Oh, yes, we do. Why?’

Reddish hues tint Halsin’s complexion as he realises that he spoke without thinking. He finds himself speechless for a moment. He does not even know what he meant to ask Gale.

‘Well, um… I was wondering, are there any githyanki in Combury?’

‘Oh, yes. Two. A mother and her son.’

The professor’s answer piques his interest in an instant.

‘The child’s mother is a githyanki?’

‘Well, the child has two mothers. A githyanki and an elf. Astarion knows them well, especially the elf, but I forgot their names. Why are you asking?’

‘Oh,’ Halsin responds, the ache returning to his heart. ‘Scratch and I have just come across the boy with his mother in the forest. It… It occurred to me that it is rare to see githyanki in the region.’

‘Ah, yes. But they are lovely people.’

‘They are.’

He sighs.

‘They are, indeed.’