Work Text:
Summers in Baldur’s Gate were the worst- the stale, hot air was thick and muggy, and it was somehow even worse inside your home. Takuro, Makie’s twin brother, was at work, likely on patrol along some pier on the other side of the city. Such was the routine of a Fist. Makie, on the other hand, unburdened by college or work, remained at home, deciding to occupy herself with some repairs she’d been putting off. On this day, she found herself fixing the broken hinge of her kitchen cabinet, which had rusted from a leak in the roof last winter. But by far the worst thing about summers was that Enki was always home, having been let out of school.
“Oi! What the hells are you doing? Give that to me right now!” Makie slid down from the countertop she’d been perched on, dropping the screwdriver she held in her hand, the cabinet door dangling off of its hinges.
Enki, her six-year-old son, held her prized violin and bow, gripping it by the base and holding it upside down as he attempted to slide the bow across the strings. He yelped, seeing her effortless tumble onto the floor, and ran into the other room.
“Can’t catch me!” He taunted in a sing-song voice, laughing as he dodged her close swipe as she pursued him. The kid was fast, and under any other circumstance, Makie might have even been amused at the ease with which he escaped her grasp.
At last they met a stalemate; Enki was caught on the other side of a shoddy, off-balance coffee table, and Makie didn’t move from her position just across from him. The boy stood frozen, unsure whether to go left or right, and in his indecision, Makie leapt onto the low table, taking him completely by surprise, and grabbing him by his baggy shirt as she jumped down.
“Give it to me right now you imp,” She demanded. Damn the boy! He had no idea how precious that old fiddle was to her- not only was it the only one she owned, but the memories attached to it were all she had left of a sad, mostly forgotten childhood. “It’s mine and it’s not a toy.”
Enki protested, attempting to slither out of the shirt. “If it ain’t a toy, why’s it called ‘playing’ when you use it?”
It was a fair question, but she didn’t have the patience to bother entertaining it. Makie groaned in exasperation. “Just let go!”
At last, his small fingers allowed both the instrument and its bow to slip back into her long-nailed hands, and he earned a small shove to his shoulder as she walked past him.
“I was only trying to play like you,” He muttered, tail drooping as his eyes lowered to the rough, stone floor.
She turned around, her tail swaying behind her in apprehension. Never before had her son taken an interest in either the instrument or learning to play it- like most other instances, she’d simply assumed he planned to use it as a boat on the docks, or as kindling for another dumpster fire.
“You…want to learn to play?” She repeated, still questioning whether she even heard him right.
He looked up, and his expression was earnest, or at least she perceived it to be at first glance- his little dark eyes wide and pleading, and the unruly mop of black, wavy hair on his head falling into them. He gave her a vicious, affirming series of nods so fervent she thought his little gnarled twin horns might crack clean off his skull.
“Hmph,” She still wasn’t completely convinced, but she gingerly held out the violin and bow back out to him. “Show me again how you were holding them before?”
He took them back into his hands as though they were now made of glass, but rearranged them so that they were in the same position as she had caught him in.
“Ok, for starters, you’re holding the violin upside down,” She put a hand on her hip, using her free wrist to spin her index finger in circles, getting Enki to flip it the right way. “There you go.”
He gave her a lopsided grin, baring his baby teeth and the couple of gaps where some were temporarily missing. She walked around him, stopping once she was behind his back, and this time her touch was gentle as she fixed the crooked way he held the taut horsehair bow and loosened the fingers curled on the neck of the violin.
She cocked her head from side to side. “Eh, better.”
“Now you’ll teach me to play?” He asked, impatient. She rolled her eyes playfully and tousled his hair.
“I guess so,” She said, and then took the elbow of his arm that held the bow, leveling it to his chest, and then let go. “Keep it there, at that height, but go ahead and carefully slide it across one of the strings.”
His brow furrowed in concentration as his stiff arm moved the bow slowly down and away from him, the contact between both objects producing a hellishly discordant, double-pitched ‘eeeee’ as the bow struck two strings. That sound- that awful squeaking screech, took her all the way back to when she first started playing.
She’d probably been about his age when Popola Everjoy first walked into Sharess’ Caress. It was the middle of winter in Wyrm’s Crossing, a chilling wind swinging the wooden signs advertising the business, and piles of packed snow lined the edges of the street. While it was biting cold outdoors, inside the brothel was warm, softly lit by chandeliers and a plethora of candles, and the smell of baking bread filled the air. On this specific night, there was a grand show on the main stage, and the entire staff was involved in it some way or other. Even her brother had been conscripted into the preparations, though he was a temporary part of the wait staff.
In the empty dressing room, Makie busied herself with playing with makeup; fiddling with the caps of dark shades of rouge, and sufficiently wiping enough eye shadow onto her face that it looked sickly, and bruised. Looking at herself in one of the vanities, she sighed. Still not pretty.
Then, the door to the room opened with a squealy creak, and she stiffened, throwing the brush in her hands behind her, and standing at attention. Was her mother back already? If it was, she was going to get more than a slap this time. She closed her eyes tightly, her tail trembling behind her as she braced herself-
“Hey there- little girl? Where’s everybody else?” It was an unfamiliar female voice which sounded from the doorway. Makie opened her eyes again, confused at what she believed was another young girl like herself.
“Who’re you?” She asked, turning her head to the side. The girl was small, a couple of inches shorter than Makie, with short, pink double braids, a round face, pointed ears, and light blue eyes. On her back was a large dull-colored pack, no doubt holding her personal belongings.
“The name’s Popola,” She said, but her voice sounded grown-up. “Today was supposed to be my first day- I was gonna help put on the show, but my ride broke down in Rivington, and I had to walk the rest of the way.”
Makie sat back onto a stool, and idly bit the sharp nail on her thumb, as she watched the girl-woman take a seat in front of another vanity, and began unpacking.
“Are you a girl or a lady?” She asked, her curiosity overcoming her politeness.
Popola looked up at her in feigned indignation. “Have you never met a gnome before, little girl? I’ll have you know I’m old enough to do whatever I please.”
Makie shifted in her seat. “My name’s not ‘little girl’, it’s Makie,” She corrected, waving a finger in the air.
“Alright then, Miss Makie,” Popola acknowledged, as she continued pulling clothes, trinkets, preserved food, and other objects from her bag, placing them on the nearby table. Makie watched, entranced, as the gnome produced a funny, long, wooden, glossy object from the bag, and a long, skinny stick which accompanied it.
“What’s that?” She asked, pointing.
“This? What, are you going to tell me you’ve never seen a violin before either?”
Makie got off from her stool with a thump, and walked across the room to inspect the object in the stranger’s hands.
“What’s a violin?”
Popola chuckled. “It’s an instrument- I’m a bard, a traveling bard now, I suppose,” It was clear the woman liked to talk, and had a warm, sunny, pleasant demeanor- a direct opposite from her frigid, solemn mother. Makie liked Popola so far. “I’ve been traveling south since last year, just myself and my violin. I started in Triboar, and found passage to Waterdeep, Daggerford, the Trollbark Forest, and now plan to see Baldur’s Gate!”
Makie half-listened to Popola talk, as she was transfixed by the smooth shine of the violin. For some unknown reason, she felt the strongest compulsion to reach out and touch it.
“-which is why I reached out to the proprietor of Sharess’ Caress. I need the money, see- there’s debtors on my trail and, what do you think you’re doing?” Makie had crouched down to lay a hand on the body of the instrument, fascinated by how it felt.
She looked up at Popola with wide scarlet eyes. “Can you play it for me?”
The gnome was perplexed by her request, but indulged her all the same, raising the violin so that its base sat under her chin, and her fingers perfectly poised with the bow in her hand. The music she played was fast-paced and high pitched, making it sound as though an imaginary creature were being chased- an invisible urgency carried through the sound. After about half a minute of demonstration, Popola delicately ended the song.
Makie stared at her, dumbfounded. It was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard! She jumped up and down, unable to contain her glee. “Play again! Play something else this time!”
Popola glanced towards the doorway, as though she expected to be interrupted at any time.
“How about this,” She said, walking up to Makie, and offering her both the instrument and bow. “I’ll teach you to play something, so whenever I’m not able to play for you, you can play for yourself!”
Makie was thrilled by the idea, accepting the violin excitedly.
Popola took her arm in her hand to correct her position, patient, as her new student struggled with the unnatural pose.
“Now, with your bowing hand, put pressure on that last string, and move down, just like that...”
Popola stayed on through the winter, remaining employed until the following summer- leaving her prized instrument in the care of a tearful Makie, loath for her teacher to leave, and who had quickly mastered the techniques and songs which her teacher had assigned. And so she moved on, planning to travel even further south with the money she’d made.
Makie wondered if Popola’s travels ever sent her back north, and whether she passed through Baldur’s Gate again without her knowledge. It was certainly possible, but she hoped someday their paths would meet again.
Enki looked expectantly back up at his mother. “Was that good?”
Makie couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Really good.”