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Friday nights at the Sleeping Dragon were typically busy with the whole town getting together, but tonight was exceptionally so. A group of friends who had heard about the Saturday market arrived early, and were eager to party it up with the locals when they heard of the regular gathering. By the time Balor changed his clothes and left his room, it felt like there wasn’t a single seat left in the house. Eyes wandering over the lively crowd, Balor smiled to himself—until he realized there literally weren’t enough seats, expression freezing in place as he saw an inebriated March sitting on Ari’s lap.
Slowly making his way down the staircase, he gently nudged Valen, sitting at the end of the bar.
“What’s going on there?” he asked, gesturing Ari’s way with his chin.
“Oh, that?” Valen took a sip of her wine. “There aren’t enough seats,” she oh so helpfully explained with a smirk. “And they’re both quite drunk.”
I didn’t know you had a doctorate in the obvious, Balor avoided saying as she resumed her debate with Juniper. Was nobody else… curious, about this entirely new development? Balor had a specific memory of standing in front of his wagon with Ari in Mistria’s gorgeous spring weather where she asked if anyone had ever punched March in the face. Yet, he had noticed that recently, they had gotten along better than ever. Maybe this was some sort of bonding thing that only happened between people who fell down a hole together. Balor had been making a delivery to the capital when it happened. Was it that this time, he had missed some lengthy and reasonable explanation while in his room?
The drunken pair was at the table furthest from the front door, sitting at the end of the bench, presumably for easy exit for either of them. Ari’s arms were wrapped around March’s waist, and he had an arm slung around her shoulders as he widely gestured with his other hand toward Celine. Balor couldn’t hear what they were talking about above the general bustle.
“Sorry, Balor,” Hemlock greeted him. “You’ll have to drag a chair down from upstairs if you want to sit. Is there anything I can get started for you, though?”
“...Just water, for now.”
“Balor!” Nora called out from behind him. “Come talk with us over here. This fellow, Kit, is telling some fantastic stories about the Capital.” The visitor in question waved, and Balor fixed his smile.
“Let me get a chair from my room, and I’ll be right with you.”
Reminding himself it was rude to stare or pry, Balor quickly retrieved a seat to place himself at the end of Nora’s table. The stories being passed around were actually quite riveting, as Kit had seen just about every situation you could possibly dream of while working at a tavern near the adventurer’s guild, and surely any other day they would’ve had Balor’s full attention—but with every pause in the conversation, he found himself glancing back at Ari and March. Glancing wasn’t as rude, was it? It really wasn’t any of his business, and Balor knew March got unusually friendly when plastered, but he hadn’t been expecting Ari to… also get so… friendly. She had never acted like this before… or maybe she had just never got drunk enough? And who could fault Balor for staring when they both started howling? The following laughter bubbling from Ari’s mouth was light, and her face was flushed a warm red, and at some point she had tucked her hair behind her ear, and Balor nearly didn’t respond in time when asked how his work was going. Even if everyone was in a celebratory mood, even if he was considering having something stronger than water but worried about having too much and saying something out of line, even if Ari’s behavior was incredibly diverting from several feet away, he would always take the opportunity to tout his business.
Maybe he didn’t take the opportunity as strongly as normal, but who would realize that?
“You’re distracted,” Nora privately noted with a friendly grin, Holt having taken the visitors’ attention upon himself with a record-setting number of puns in a row. “I was expecting you to have made three contracts by now.”
“March was howling,” Balor reminded her and himself. “In a very distracting manner.”
“Of course,” Nora agreed, and Balor took a long sip of his water, ignoring the glimmer in her eyes. “I remember the last time it happened, he bought a round of drinks for everyone in the building. Bets on if he’ll do it again?”
Balor stared into his cup, swirling the water around. He laughed.
Perhaps fortunately for him, no such thing happened. Even if someone else was paying, he wasn’t letting himself have anything alcoholic tonight. He couldn’t, rather. About another hour passed before people started filtering out. Celine had gone home and was replaced with Olric, who was eagerly engaging March in conversation while Ari rested her chin on March’s shoulder.
Not that Balor was paying attention to any of that, of course. Kit was saying something incredibly interesting about treasure located somewhere east of the capital. When they turned to Jospehine to pay their tab, Balor wracked his brain. Did they say it was in the valleys, or in the mountains? What treasure was it supposed to be, again? The King’s Claw, or something? He remembered thinking that’s an alliterative name, right as he noticed how the inn’s lighting seemed to illuminate the warm greens in Ari’s eyes more than normal. He was actually so engaged in the conversation that he nearly leapt out of his seat when Josephine tapped his shoulder.
“Looks like Ari is about to head home,” she said, with a soft yet strangely conspiratorial smile on her face. “Seeing as you’re the most sober one here, would you walk her home? I’ll go ahead and move your chair back… and I won’t charge you for the water, I suppose.”
Ari was, in fact, removing March from her lap at last. For a moment, it didn’t look like March was going to let go, whispering something in her ear with a hand covering his mouth. Ari seemed to scoff good-naturedly—and as she took a step away from the table, she nearly stumbled directly into a barstool.
“Oh, of course,” Balor said. “I would hate for her to… fall in the river, or something.” He remembered just in time to give his farewells to their visitors, and cleared his throat as he walked up to Ari. He most definitely did not give any attention to how she was wearing shorts and her thighs were red from March sitting on them the whole evening. He hardly even noticed that she had legs at all, actually.
“Jo requested that I help you get home, lest you get into a fight with one of the inn’s chairs,” he joked, and for a moment, it looked like Ari was taking him seriously, brow furrowed like she was processing his words one at a time, before a grin blossomed on her face and she laughed wholeheartedly.
“If I wasn’t short on the wood to replace it, I might.” Her voice was so steady that if not for her unusually hesitant steps forward, Balor might’ve mistaken her for entirely sober. She then turned toward March, ruffled his hair, and unmistakeably said, “Sleep well, babygirl.”
“Byeeee, Ari,” March responded, and Balor ignored all that while Ari grabbed onto his bicep with a hand so warm he could feel it through his sleeve and he led her out the door into the quiet, summer night.
“Oh, it’s nice out,” Ari remarked. “I thought it would be hotter.”
“Right,” Balor agreed, unable to tell what temperature it was at all. “Shall we get going?”
“Lead the way, my good knight.”
That was unexpected enough to make Balor laugh. “I’ll make sure you arrive safely, Princess.”
“You know all about making things arrive safely.”
“Oh, absolutely. It’s in the job description.”
There was nothing between them but the chirping of insects as they descended the stairs out of town. Ari seemed to be entirely focused on not tripping on her own feet. With how firmly she had latched onto him, he appreciated it, as he would prefer to end the night without a tumble down the stone steps. The lights were still on in Celine’s cottage as they passed by. Balor had a brief thought of checking on his wagon to make sure no one was rummaging through it, but there was a slight quirk to Ari’s lips, and instead he found himself speaking up.
“You seemed to be in a good mood, tonight,” he prompted her.
He wanted to ask about March. Why she was letting him sit on her lap. If she had initiated or he had. If that had made her… happier, than average. If anything had happened between them while they were some in pit in the mines.
She glanced at him, eyes wandering his face for a moment, and she let go of his arm to scratch at her cheekbone.
“I got real lucky digging stuff up earlier, so maybe I celebrated a little too much,” she explained vaguely. There was a pause, and she took a slow breath in. “...You know, I felt like we didn’t get to talk much tonight.”
“...No, I guess we didn’t.” Balor refrained from pointing out that she was incredibly busy with some redhead literally on top of her. Then again, Celine and Olric must’ve held normal conversations with her during all that. Or maybe they were just talking to March.
Maybe if Balor had gone over there, he would’ve found the answer. Maybe he would’ve even been fine with whatever it was.
A breeze blew by, just for a moment, and she pushed her hair out of her face. Balor almost thought of brushing it back for her.
“How was your day?” Ari prompted in return.
“It went fairly well, thank you for asking.”
“That’s wonderful,” she said casually, like she wasn’t stumbling on her own feet towards the river—which she was, and Balor caught the back of her shirt and pulled her back.
“Careful now!” he chided, and she threw her head back and laughed.
And perhaps the image of March’s position was still swirling in his mind, because he wasn’t really sure why he would otherwise wrap an arm around her shoulders. Perhaps it was the same for Ari, because she slipped her arm around his waist, and they crossed the bridge like it was totally natural between them.
And after a whole night of trying not to stare and failing miserably, he couldn’t really deny it at this point—that he wanted it to be natural between them. He had wanted it since they had dinner in his room, where she almost said something like him staying in Mistria mattered more to her than anything. Maybe he had even wanted it before that, but what was he supposed to say after she cut herself off and called him her best friend? There was no way he didn’t notice. Becoming one of the best merchants in the capital had taught him every tell in the book; he could tell when someone was lying to him from five towns away. Through a single letter, even! Ari had changed the subject as gracefully as a newborn calf trying to walk. It was so agonizing that he had nearly punched Wheedle in the face. Well, that was actually pretty normal, but everything about the situation made the urge worse.
It wasn’t like she started avoiding him after that. They talked as frequently as before, and she continued to sneak him gems from the mines every once in awhile. He gave her a jar of blueberry jam and she came back the next day and said she practically used the whole thing in one sitting. He was a little more honest with her, she was a little more honest with him. Everything was just… friendly. It was nice, to be honest. Balor would rather keep their friendship than lose it by forcing the subject, but he couldn’t help thinking about it. He found himself thinking about her a lot. How she was feeling, what she was doing for the day. If she had eaten enough, if she was staying safe in the mines. For her, he found himself nearly pushing his own long established boundaries. Don’t get too close, don’t be too honest, don’t stay too long. He might as well have thrown those all out the window. Yes, he had grown to love Mistria, and he was being more open with everyone in town, but… it wasn’t like he was this concerned about… Adeline, or literally anyone else. He never walked anyone else home.
Maybe it wasn’t evident enough for her. Everyone else seemed to know, in a minorly infuriating way. Maybe he ought to get a doctorate in being obvious. Who knew. People said education helped with business, or whatever. Maybe it would give him the words to sell himself as a good partner, and Ari would buy into it, regardless of how true it was.
She met his eyes in the dim moonlight, and slowly smiled. He looked at her lips.
Maybe he just needed to pull her closer and kiss her. How was that for obvious?
There was an owl calling from atop a tree. The fresh scent of pine needles drifted through the air, and someone laughed in the distance. Balor didn’t recognize the voice.
Holding back a sigh, he reminded himself that he had never been one for taking unnecessary risks.
“You stopped walking,” Ari pointed out. Her voice was quiet enough to not break through the night.
“Maybe I stopped because you stopped,” Balor retorted lightly, unable to speak any louder than she had.
“Oh, of course.”
Her intonation sounded familiar. But, how in the world would she have heard that, if she hadn’t been specifically paying attention?
They continued down the road. Balor had made this trip countless times now, walking to her farm in the night, wondering what he would carry back. It was the first time he had ever delivered something to her farm other than letters. He wasn’t quite expecting it to be Ari herself. Before he could get used to the way her hand squeezed at his side, it was already over. She kept the door unlocked, for her cat’s sake of all things, and it easily swung open to reveal the dark interior of her house. She had lived in Mistria for two years, but Balor had only ever been inside once, when she needed help moving a couch around. Her cat weaved between his legs like it either loved or hated him with a passion, and Ari had laughed at his misfortune so hard she had to lie down on her bed.
The memory playing before his eyes shattered when Ari stepped in and hugged him, her body against his, her face pressed almost against his neck.
Her chest was—
She had one. Surely. Not that Balor had ever confirmed that fact in any way!
Having lost the composure that typically defined him as a businessman, Balor could only stand there frozen, thinking about how warm she was. There was a faint, citrus-like smell coming from her hair. Maybe she went to the bathhouse before going to the inn. His mouth was dry.
“Thanks, handsome,” she said into his shirt.
You’re welcome, beautiful stuck to his throat, so he suavely choked out, “You’re so drunk.”
“Mm. Get home safe.”
The moment lasted forever, only for a second. Ari stepped away, slipped inside, and the door closed, and Balor didn’t even have the time to entertain the thought of following her and—he couldn’t entirely remember getting back to the inn, despite not having a single drop of alcohol. Hemlock raised an eyebrow at him, smiling like he knew something.
“You look like you had a good time,” he commented, which was strange. Balor would have thought he looked like Juniper’s cauldron had just blown up in his face.
“Goodnight, Hemlock!” he replied somewhat insistently, hurrying up the steps to his room.
March had held onto her the whole night. Balor should have just gone for it.
Probably could have even got away with more.
Did she regret calling him her best friend?
Dammit, dammit dammit.
The next morning, he was standing outside Darcy’s booth when Ari walked up to him with a squint to her eyes.
“Do you happen to have a hangover?” he teased, forcibly pushing back any memories of—of anything not immediately relevant. What was he going to order from Darcy, anyway? Her recommendations always went over well.
Do you happen to remember throwing your arms around me with your lips almost close enough to touch my skin, he didn’t ask at all. Will you realize that I didn’t sleep all that well either? Do you really think I’m handsome?
Instead of answering his voiced or unvoiced questions, Ari thrust out her hand at him—and folded within her palm was an Aldarian bracelet, the likes of which Balor had never seen before. Well, actually, he had seen it, at the museum after she donated it, and remarked something like wow this is amazing while she was around, but he hadn’t expected Ari to remember that he liked it, much less expected her to give him any extras that she found. She had given him gifts before, but nothing quite like this. This one looked even more carefully excavated—the one in the museum had a crack right in the middle of the red stone. Balor held it close to his chest; there was no way he was letting Errol or Eiland take it from him, even for comparison. See how they felt about that.
She brushed at something on her shirt. “You said they’re pretty rare, right? I figured you’d like it.”
Right. She said she was lucky, the day before. Meaning that all of this was because…
“Ari,” he started, meaning to thank her.
“Why was March sitting on your lap?”
The words had escaped from his mouth like they were breaking out of jail. He didn’t entirely want to know. At least he didn’t ask something extremely stupid like if she was in love with him. Then he would’ve had to move out of Mistria and get a new name and haircut, which would be unfortunate, because he rather liked his current ones.
Ari rubbed at the back of her neck with an embarrassed look. “You know,” she started, “I just remember feeling bad for him for not having a seat, and I was in a pretty good mood, so things just kind of… happened.”
“Is that so.” Balor couldn’t imagine himself doing that for anyone in particular, but he couldn’t imagine himself getting drunk enough to nearly fall into the river, either. Maybe if he had arrived before March had, he would’ve been the one sitting on Ari’s lap, and March would’ve listened to some guy talk about adventurers getting into fist fights.
“Yeah. I think I called him by the wrong name a few times, last night.” Her gaze wandered across the plaza, and Balor briefly realized that this meant she had at least a few memories of what she did while entirely wasted, before she abruptly pivoted. “I had a dream about you.”
Balor turned to the side to look at Celine when she squeaked audibly. She covered her mouth and avoided his gaze.
“Burn your tongue?” he offered.
“Oh, um, yes!” She shifted her stance so that the lemonade in her hands wasn’t as visible.
Giving his attention back to Ari, Balor gave what he hoped was a charismatic smile and lied, “I hear that a lot, actually.”
“I found out you were a long lost prince of some kingdom,” Ari continued, shielding her eyes from the morning light. “It was crazy.”
His eyes widened, and he laughed. “Could you imagine?” he asked. “Maybe I would suddenly obtain a lot of wealth… but maybe I would be assassinated for threatening someone’s chance at the crown. Maple’s told me a lot about circumstances like these.”
“Oh, yeah. I can hear exactly how she would say it.” Ari adjusted her hold on the bag slung over her shoulder. “I’m gonna go make a delivery to Louis.”
“Alright, talk to you later.”
He ignored when Celine ran after her, pulling her close to whisper in her ear with a vibrant expression, and he most certainly didn’t make eye contact with Ari when she glanced back at him with a flustered smile. So they weren’t going to talk about it. That was fine. Balor didn’t know what to say just yet anyway. But, did she really think he didn’t know how she felt? She hugged him and called him handsome! She may as well have kissed him on the mouth! While it wasn’t like he knew everything about her, Balor was pretty sure she wasn’t the type to lead someone on, or try to play with their heart. Maybe she didn’t realize how blatant her feelings were, and couldn’t recognize Balor’s either. She seemed to think her crazy conversation transitions were smooth enough to fool him, at least.
Kit and their friends chattered excitedly at Vera’s stall, and the scent of her hair dyes wafted over. Darcy was still finishing up Juniper’s latte, drawing something in the foam on top. The kids laughed, their footsteps loud as they ran up the stone stairs. The morning air was pleasantly cool for summer, and the sunlight was warm on Balor’s face.
The realization hit him like he was being slapped: Ari really thought she was fooling him.
If it was anyone else, he would probably be a little offended, but coming from Ari… it was actually really cute…?
He pictured her sighing in relief, thinking good thing he didn’t notice!
Oh.
Ohhh no.
Was he smiling like an idiot? He felt like it.
What broke Balor out of his embarrassing thoughts was March running into him, their shoulders knocking together. He barely muttered an apology before ordering a drink from Darcy with a severe furrow to his brows. Balor regarded the tired look on his face for a moment.
It’s not like he was frustrated with him. After all, the whole situation only happened because Ari was so delighted to have dug up an artifact specifically to give to Balor that she ended up drinking way more than she should have and couldn’t entirely control herself. Maybe March didn’t even realize what was going on. Balor stepped forward to stand slightly behind March, as if ready to order.
“Do you remember Ari calling you ‘babygirl’ last night?”
March slowly turned to face him, eyes wide with shock, and Balor couldn’t help but burst into laughter. He had spent so many years trying to be crafty that maybe he just forgot how to spell things out plain and clear. Well, if he needed a reference for behaving openly, he always had March, didn’t he?
If Ari had some reason to be hesitant, if she really had some reason that made her want to “fool” him about everything, Balor could wait for her to figure it out, and if Ari called him her best friend because he really wasn’t being obvious enough for her, maybe he could just… rectify that. Maybe next Friday he would try sitting on her lap.