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Part 3 of Prelude of a Springlady
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Real Housewives of Baldur's Gate 2026 Spring Writing Prompts
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Published:
2026-04-02
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1,368
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1/1
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Send the Fool Another Mile

Summary:

Perrin plays a prank on Eliwyn.

Prompt word/phrase: April Fools

Notes:

PLEASE NOTE:
This series is largely meant to be enjoyed alongside my main fic, Threads of Fate. If you have not yet read the main fic you are of course welcome to continue reading this series, but please be aware that much of it may not entirely make sense. I also highly recommend you begin with Part 1 of the series if you have not yet read ToF.

***

This work is an entry for the RHoBG Spring Prompt event. I’ve decided to use this event as a chance to explore Eliwyn’s past. It seems fitting for a cleric of Lathander and spring lady!

Think of these pieces more like vignettes rather than full one-shots. Also, since these prompts are daily and I am challenging myself to do all of them, these pieces have not gone through my usual editing process. If you’re here from Threads of Fate, you get to see my work in its “raw” form.

I hope you enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Tarsakh 1391

Baldur’s Gate

The kitchen table is littered with ingredients and cooking tools. Leafy greens sit in two bundles amongst small dishes of salt and pepper and dill. Waterdhavian cheese waits to be shredded.  Eliwyn is already dicing up the onion as her mother gathers the chilled ingredients from the spring house.  She comes back laden with milk and a log of Durinbold cheese. 

Eliwyn and her mother are making chard fritters, one of her father’s favorites. Her mother could easily employ a cook, but only elven food is served in the Torleth house and her mother cannot be bothered to teach a human the art of elven cooking. So, it falls to Eliwyn to help with the preparations. 

As she looks over the table, her mother frowns. 

“Eggs.  We’re missing eggs.”

“We’re all out,” Eliwyn says, peering into the bowl that is normally full of brown and white and blue shelled eggs. “Shall I run to The Wide?”

Her mother taps a long finger on the table.  “No, it’s too late. All the eggs will be gone by now. Go see if Mrs. Seawright has any to spare.”

Eliwyn dons her shoes and heads out into the warmth of the Tarsakh day. Perrin’s house is right next door. The homes of the two oversars stand near the top of the street, grander than the homes next to them, but not nearly as grand as the Whitburn mansion that sprawls at the very end of the court. 

It is Perrin who greets Eliwyn after being let in by the steward. 

“Do you have any spare eggs?”

“I’m sure we do.”  Perrin then turns to the steward and asks him to inquire about eggs with the cook. He strides off and a curious look crosses Perrin’s face. “Actually, since you’re out and about, would you mind taking this note over to Mrs. Clanrider?  My mother needs her help with something.”

Eliwyn takes the sealed note from Perrin.  She really should get back home directly with the eggs, but the Clanriders are only a couple of houses down. It won’t take long. “Well I…I suppose I can.”

Perrin beams and at that moment the steward arrives with a small basket in hand, half a dozen eggs nestled within. The girls bid farewell and Eliwyn makes her way quickly down the street. 

Mrs. Clanrider takes the note from Eliwyn and her brow deepens as she reads the words. Her eyes flick to Eliwyn. The she huffs a small laugh. 

“I’ll be happy to help Mrs. Seawright. I’ll go over directly.  And actually, Miss Torleth, would you mind doing me a quick favor?”

Eliwyn shifts and clutches the basket of eggs tighter. Her mother will be cross if she dallies much longer…but Mrs. Clanrider is very dear. Her mother will understand if she takes a few extra moments to lend a hand. 

Mrs. Clanrider quickly jots down a note, seals it, and hands it to Eliwyn. “Take this to Colonnal Helrid. He should be home from his patrol by now.”

So, off Eliwyn goes, down the street and around the corner to the colonnal’s house. There, she receives yet another strange set of looks before being asked to wait a moment as he jots a note to be taken to yet another person.  

And so it goes for several more houses.  The note is opened, brows pinch and furrow or a frown pulls, then an eye gleams or a mouth smirks. Eliwyn is bid to help with errand after errand and, being unable to say no in the face of someone in need, she is handed a scribbled and sealed note and sent along. 

“Take this over to the Blacklances, please,” says Sel Leafflow. 

Eliwyn looks down at the note. “Sel, what is going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why is everyone passing notes along today?”

Sel’s lips twist. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. No hurry please, it is an urgent matter.”

Note in hand, basket of eggs now quite warm from the heat of the day, Eliwyn huffs and turns on her heel. Gods help her when she finally gets back home. Her mother will have all sorts of words for her. But this should be the last stop. Mrs. Blacklance is away for the next tenday and Highsword Blacklance is on duty. The only person home will be Marek, and she will have no trouble denying him aid. That is for certain. 

Sure enough, Marek is on the front step leaning against the door, face turned up to the sky, eyes closed. Eliwyn stands at the gate and waits for him to notice her. 

Which, of course, he does not. 

He’s gone from teasing her relentlessly for years to completely ignoring her now that they are no longer children. This new arrangement of indifference is usually much preferred, but today she is anxious to get his attention so that she can finally go home. 

She clears her throat softly, but just loud enough for him to hear. He startles a bit at first, stares wide-eyed at her, then returns to his leisure. 

Eliwyn bites her lip, unsure of what to do now in the face of his disregard. So she clears her throat again. 

“Do you need something?” Marek asks without moving. 

She rolls her eyes and tsks at his rudeness. “I have a note for you.”

This piques his interest apparently, for he is on his feet in a moment and standing before her in half a moment after that.  He snags the note from her fingers. So very rude. 

His bold blue eyes move across the page, expressionless. They narrow when he looks at her. “Did you read this?”

“Of course not,” she says. 

Then he hands the note to her. “Read it.”

On the page are written the words: Do not laugh, do not smile, send the fool another mile. 

Eliwyn’s jaw drops. She’s been had!  This whole time she’s been on some sort of goose chase. She gapes up at Marek’s smirk. 

“Did you forget what day it is today?” he asks. 

And then it dawns on her. It’s the first of Tarsakh. Hunt the Fool Day. A day of pranks and jokes. And Perrin has played quite a one on her. 

Eliwyn huffs a small laugh.  “So I did.”  She tilts her chin at Marek.  “Why didn’t you keep me going?”  Surely this would be exactly the sort of thing he’d find entertaining. He surely would not waste an opportunity to make her into a fool. 

Marek’s eyes travel over her. Heat burns from deep within her under his gaze. She is accustomed to burning with embarrassment inflicted by him. But this is different. 

He reaches out to take the note. Their fingers brush and his gaze softens. Her heart stutters for the briefest of moments. 

Marek doesn’t say a word, though she can see from the look on his face that there is something he very much wants to say. Instead, he frees the note from her hand, slips his touch away from her, then strides back to the house and closes the door behind him. 

Quite some time passes as Eliwyn stands rooted to the spot. But soon her mind regains control of the strange emotion eddying within her and she hurries back to her house with the basket of eggs. 

***

“So, how was the rest of your day yesterday?”  

Perrin settles onto the rock next to her.  A mischievous smirk makes Eliwyn jab her hard in the arm. 

“You are wicked. Do you know that?”

Perrin lets out a full laugh.  “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. Where did you finally end up?”

Eliwyn gives her a sidelong glance. “…Marek’s house.”

Perrin’s hands fly to her mouth. “Dear gods, I’m so sorry!  Was he awful to you?”

Eliwyn pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her chin on her arms.  “No. No, he wasn’t,” she says quietly.  She is still unsure as to why he was not. 

Down below, the Chionthar rushes by. Beyond, the harbor bustles with activity.  A breeze blows over her. Eliwyn closes her eyes and sees a bold, blue gaze. 

Notes:

Perrin’s prank was inspired by a traditional Scottish prank played on Huntigowk Day, their equivalent of April Fools Day.

Chard Fritters recipe.

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