Tyson sunk as he remembered, for the hundredth time since they'd begun their journey from Glitter with the Balguts, that his axe was buried in a hillside in the middle of nowhere, probably blanketed in three feet of snow.
He'd considered buying a new one in Starhold, or going back for it in a week. Even if he'd found it, it could be brittle and damaged by then. Proper battleaxes were pricey. It was a decision he'd have to make tomorrow. Tonight, however, he got drunk.
Turning to his companions, who were bidding the family of farmers goodbye in the setting sun, he spoke, "I'm throwing a party," which was plenty enough of an invitation. He started off before pausing and adding, "Sly can't come," with an indignant, "hey!" in response form the Inu. He'd be damned if anyone so morally corrupt was allowed to taint his home. And then he was gone.
Jennessa smiled, knowing that to be as close to an invitation as she would receive from Tyson.
"That sounds fun! Are you going?" she said to Cardinal, hardly waiting for a response. "Jellixa won't even be there. He probably needs cheering up after tumbling down—" and then she remembered. "TYSON, wait!" Jennessa trotted after him, unsheathing the axe that she could barely hold, but Tyson was already gone.
It's alright. I'll see him tonight at the party. I can bring it to his house. As she found herself out of breath from jogging with Tyson's battleaxe, a different thought occurred to her. Or maybe he can pick it up at mine.
Tyson, after sufficiently having hidden valuable and breakable objects within his home, marched into the bar next door and up to the bartended who greeted him happily.
"Tyson! Back from your travels? We haven't seen you in—"
"Two barrels." Tyson slapped down 30 gold pieces, which quickly garnered the attention of everyone in the tavern, including the bartend who quickly snatched up the currency and secured it away from hungry eyes.
"You shouldn't throw money around like that," he whispered, irritated, but rolling over two barrels of meads and ales nonetheless.
"I can handle myself," Tyson responded, hoisting them up onto his shoulders and proclaiming to the twenty or so patrons waiting, "Party next door." He left to the sounds of hastily left chairs and tables rattling as word spread.
Ten minutes or so later Tyson sat on his balcony, sipping his fourth drink to the sounds of merriment around him and watching as villagers joined in. He secretly hoped his friends would come.
Jennessa spent a fair amount of time magically primping and prettying herself, for this night held great promise of actually receiving affection from Tyson. The last party they went to together resulted in a kiss, so she wondered if the lucky streak would continue. When at last she arrived at Tyson's, her wild red hair was contained in an elegant French braid, and she had traded in her battle-worn robes for a flowing evening gown reserved for only special occasions. "Chicks, am I right?" Shadow joked into Cardinal's ear as they entered Tyson's house together.
Tyson had gotten tired of people watching, and had cheered (masculinely) with the rest as a tipsy bard improvised an intermittent tune on a pipe. He heard a crash downstairs and strode to investigate when he caught sight of Cardinal boasting about Shadow's greatness to a pretty human girl and a young female Inu while Shadow tried to make himself look impressive and attractive at the same time. Tyson pretended he hadn't seen them and glanced around for Jennessa before realizing that she WAS the human girl with Cardinal and Shadow. The dress was new, and she was cleaned up a bit, but the fiery red hair was unmistakable. He considered greeting his friends, but opted to let them find him, and let himself be pulled off into a crowd by some grateful partygoers to dance (which was admittedly easier when he wasn't weighed down by his armor).
Being around Shadow and Cardinal was fun, but it was not the objective of the night for Jennessa. Tyson was surprisingly absent for a party at his own home. She finally caught sight of him, wiggling his limbs in a crowd of drunk dancing bargoers. Without ceremonial farewells, Jennessa took a swig of mead to install some bravery, then approached the dance.
"Tyson!" She shouted over music and laughter, forcing her way with determination to the Paladin. He looked remarkably approachable without his armor, almost as if he could be hurt.
Tyson was feeling the warmth of the alcohol and starting smile and laugh with others as he let loose for the first time in a while. His brother was miles away and his axe the last thing on his mind. His ears perked as he heard someone calling his name, and he turned to see Jennessa trying to maneuver her way through the crowd without being eaten. He tried to seem nonchalant and cool when a staggering half-elf danced into him and he awkwardly stumbled forward a few steps, coming to a halt in front of the wizard.
"Jennessa," he said in greeting, forgetting not to sound pleased.
Butterflies in her chest were almost too much to force words through as he stumbled towards her. A huge smile lit up her face when she heard the way he said her name, just like she dreams. I have fought dragons and ghosts and dread kings. I can talk to this man, Jennessa told herself, and mustered up voice enough to say,
"Hi."
Some human, already drunk before leaving the bar, fell into Jennessa from behind, leaving her eyes broken from their lock with Tyson as she fell forward, grasping at his chest for support.
Tyson reflexively caught Jennessa, keeping her from falling onto the ground, and steadied her before taking his hands off her waist. He wrote off the heat on his ears as slight intoxication, clearing his throat. "Let's get out of this." He led her to the parlor where people were (much more calmly) enjoying some game involving stacking things. Getting Jennessa off of the dance floor seemed like a good idea. He found a bottle of something and leaned against the wall, albeit crookedly, and felt Jennessa's eyes on him. Did he have something on his shirt? "Where's Cardinal?" Had he left? Bastard.
Jennessa barely heard him over her own pounding heart.
"I'm not sure." He was actually looking out for her, not just because he needed her spells. Could it be he actually enjoyed her company? "He doesn't drink much any more. He might have left. Why?"
He shrugged noncommittally. He was hoping the fighter would challenge him to a drink-off.
"No reason. He can do what he wants." He offered the bottle to Jennessa. "Have you set off any fireworks yet?"
Jennessa smirked a little. "No. Not today." She held the bottle up to her lips for a moment, then found herself unable to identify the liquor inside, but took a swallow anyway. Her nose burned sharply. As she shook her head quickly and handed the bottle back, she remembered her great plan to get Tyson on his own, and maybe even put him in a better mood.
"Axe," she said suddenly, bright blue eyes wide. "Your axe. I picked it up for you before we left."
Tyson snorted at her reaction to the beverage, before his head shot up, his own eyes widening excitedly.
"My axe? You have it? Where is it?" He found himself reaching out as if to grab the weapon that was obviously not slung over this woman's back. His mood was markedly improved.
Jennessa couldn't help but smile at his reaction. Tyson passionate was a rare and wonderful sight. "It's safe, at my house. We can go pick it up if you like, it's not far..."
Tyson practically yanked Jennessa out the front door through happy warm bodies who tried to call their generous host back. Sly, who had crashed the festivities against orders, howled in approval at the two of them leaving together. "Use protection!"
Jennessa was pretty certain they wouldn't need shields or armor just walking from Tyson's house to hers, but was somewhat comforted by how Sly cared. She still had a couple of spells ready to go today, anyway, if trouble did arise.
"I can lead the way," Jennessa assured Tyson, although she was unwilling to yank her hand free of his.
Tyson was more than happy to let her, realizing he did not actually know the way. He'd never thought about that before. Where DID Jennessa live? He released her hand and stuck his in his pockets in a posture his brother would never approve of and walked at a comfortable pace next to her.
"Why didn't you give it to me back in Glitter?" He was too relieved to be annoyed, but was still curious.
"Oh, I meant to." Jennessa said quickly, brushing her sweaty palm on her dress. "But with the Balguts and everything, it slipped my mind. I only remembered when you had already left to throw a party." She tucked some hair behind her rounded ear as she walked with him. "It was a little too cumbersome to bring to a party with me, so i just had to leave it at home and let you know."
Seemed reasonable enough. Tyson nodded. "I've had it for a few decades now. High grade Elven steel." Why was he telling her this? "My father gave it to me." Tyson felt his tongue loosening as he talked about his past. Something he NEVER did. He bit his cheek to stop the words. Thinking about his father made his think about his brother, and thinking about his brother made him think about his impending execution. Which was a real downer on a night like this.
A shy smile spread on Jennessa' face into her eyes. "I bet your father was as brave a man as you," she said softly. Tyson huffed in amusement. His father, brave? Yes, in the way he fearlessly led guests into the sitting room. But he straightened up a little bit from being called brave by an attractive woman, even if that woman was Jennessa. "Yeah maybe."
Jennessa stifled an amused chuckle, but stepped a little closer. It didn't take the mind of an arcanist to know the way to Tyson's heart was flattery.
"Your brother is really not though," she joked.
"Saeran is a coward," Tyson said bitterly, watching his feet and getting quiet. He knew Jennessa wasn't trying to upset him. There's no way she could know anything about… well, everything. He met her eyes with slightly amusement and said, finally, "and he really can't take a punch."
His reaction surprised her. "I'm sorry? Did I- wait, you hit him?"
Hadn't she seen him whining about it to Elza? Saeran tended to make a scene.
"He had it coming." Tyson looked away, not liking where this conversation was going.
Pieces began to come together across Tyson's shadowy face. "Well he's a snob, sure, but..." Jennessa wondered what had turned Tyson so sour, with just minutes ago he was happy and drunk and dancing and caring for her.
"I feel like I'm missing a piece of this story."
"He doesn't care about you," Tyson said suddenly, remembering the smile that lighted Jennessa's face when Saeran had complimented her architecture to win her over, as he had so many before. "He doesn't care about me. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. He-" Tyson trailed off, blowing out a breath of air and trying not to get too worked up. "You guys shouldn't talk to him."
Jennessa stopped walking, shocked. His words hurt like a bugbear's fist knocking the breath from her lungs. She had never suspected anything shady to come from a handsome face like Saeran's, so much like his. But once she heard the words from Tyson, she remembered all too well that glib smooth talkers like Saeran should never be trusted. "My house is this way." she said finally, voice weak, as she turned left down the path.
Tyson was grateful that she'd let it drop. He hadn't decided if he was going to tell them yet. He hurried after her, his breath fogging in the frigid air. He'd never been along this street before. He was appreciating the lucid surroundings and couldn't imagine having to see them as a human, with no color at night when everything was at its most beautiful. He noticed Jennessa's cheeks were pale, and wondered if it was from the cold or from his outburst.
Jennessa was starting to learn that gowns like this, while great for impressing men, were very lacking in functionality and protection from elements. If she made it to her warm house before an icy tear left her eyes, she would be fine. Why would he say that? How did he know who Saeran did or did not care about? Angry thoughts rushed through her head before it occurred to her he might have been jealous.
Tyson groaned inaudibly at the tense air between the two of them now. Where was the alcohol when you needed it? He was torn between leaving Jennessa to her thoughts and fixing what he'd done to upset her. He settled for changing the subject. Sometimes he didn't mind the quiet, but he liked noise.
"Have you ever felt like getting away?"
She glanced back at him. "Yeah. I grabbed a quarterstaff and hit the road." It was sassy perhaps, but true. Jennessa turned back to the path and tried to discreetly wipe her eye.
"Why do you br-bring it up?" she said through the cold.
He pretended he hadn't seen, but now he knew he'd upset her. Great. Some friend he was.
"Before I left home, everywhere I went, everyone I talked to was.. dragging me down," he gestured desperately in explanation. "I've been feeling like that a lot lately," he muttered quietly.
Of course. He didn't belong. Elf society is designed for the thoughtful, the talkative, the cowardly...not like Tyson at all. Everything he had been running from, Saeran brought it all back to him.
"I didn't mean to upset you," he finished. That was as close to an apology as he would get.
"It's alright." Jennessa managed a smile at him. "It wasn't really you, it was just that now I understand the type of man Saeran is." She sighed, and said softly, "I should have known better than to believe it."
"I used to believe it too," Tyson said cryptically as Jennessa brought him to a building that must have been her own. Jennessa had smiled. That was good, right?
Her home was of modest size, with cute bay windows filled with oddities and exotic plants. Thin greenish smoke rose from the chimney out of the thatch roof.
"Come on in," Jennessa said sweetly as she unlocked the door and swept it open. Inside the cozy parlor room, tables and shelves one would expect to see tea and cutlery on were piled with scrolls, writings, trinkets, diagrams, formulas, flasks, and a dozen other arcane implements. Tidiness took a backseat to Jennessa's studying. A toad croaked and hopped off the stair rail, into a potted purple fern that lived halfway through the doorway into the kitchen. The only place devoid of clutter was a simple pedestal, encased with glass and sealed tight, with Brawn's spellbook locked within.
Tyson stepped in and was immediately taken aback as he tried to absorb all of his surroundings. He didn't know how one person could accumulate so many things. Were all humans like this? He felt his own home extremely lacking in comparison. Perhaps Tyson should buy some more things… He grimaced at the memory of the fraud who had nearly had them all killed (she put that on display?) before found himself drawn to the small toad on the fern and he reached to pick it up.
"Careful!" Jennessa said suddenly, then calmer, "Some of the plants are carnivorous. Um... your axe is upstairs." Blushing, she quickly headed up the carpeted staircase, picking up her dress as she went.
Tyson withdrew his hand, really not wanting to deal with magical botany. At the mention of his axe, his mood lifted again and he hurried to follow her up the stairs, trying not to stare at her. She wasn't the most graceful, but Jennessa filled out the gown beautifully. Axe.
Jennessa opened the door to her bedroom once they arrived on the top floor. It was less full of stuff than the downstairs, and furniture consisted of only a simple bed, a wardrobe with few garments, and two nightstands; one with an oil lamp and a few books on it, and the other where her "adventuring gear" had been piled, with her staff leaning against the wall near it. Jennessa lifted from behind the wardrobe the big ornate axe that could only be his.
Tyson let his face light up in a rare broad smile, reaching to take his axe and place his fingers in the familiar hand holds when they brushed against Jennessa's. He quickly ended contact and shifted the axe so it was resting comfortably against his shoulder and met Jennessa's eyes.
"Thank you."
He couldn't remember the last time he'd shown gratitude, and he could only imagine what Saeran would say about this. Thanking a human. Casting aside his valuable axe and leaving it in the first place. But Jennessa had gone out of her way to do something for him because she cared, not for personal gain. And he was grateful.
Jennessa looked back in to his eyes, so full of joy. She had never seen him so wholly happy, without a care or a streak of blood across his face, as she did then. Seeing him looking right as rain with his axe in hand made Jennessa wonder if he wasn't happy enough (and just drunk enough) for her to do something totally nuts. So before she could change her mind, she stepped forward, leaned on her toes, shut her eyes, and kissed him.
Tyson felt warmth pooling in his gut and he closed his eyes at the press of inexperienced lips, tilting his head slightly to kiss her properly before his mind caught up to him. He pulled back. "J-Jennessa.." he managed. Did she want something from him? Was this payment for his axe? Why..?
Color flooded Jennessa's face as she felt she made some mistake, but it was almost worth it to feel him kiss back, even for just a moment. "I'm sorry. Was that-? I'm sorry." Panic rose in her chest and she couldn't look at him. She had no spell for this.
"Don't apologize, just-" Tyson calmed his breathing. "I.." He didn't understand, but he didn't want to admit that out loud. He wasn't paying her. She wouldn't gain any social status from sleeping with him. What was her angle? His fuzzy mind raced to come up with answers, but all he was able to was gawk at her. She looked spooked. "Are you alright?"
Humiliation slowly turned to confusion. "Well, I'm not... good... I thought maybe after the party at Glitter you... we..." Jennessa grasped at explanations for his behavior. Offense, indignance, anger, even nausea would at least have a reasonable explanation. Then it hit her, and she clapped a hand to her mouth. "Am I that inexperienced that you didn't know I was trying to kiss you?"
Tyson started. "No you- what?" He shook his head, trying to clear his sluggish brain. "Of course I know that! But why?"
Jennessa stared at the ground. What an odd question to ask. "What reasons do I need?" She rubbed her impractically bare shoulders. The bedroom wasn't as warm as she expected. "You're the kindest, bravest, strongest, most handsome man I've ever met." Looking at his eyes would take a feat of courage she could not yet muster. "I just want to kiss you. I liked the last time I tried it."
Tyson was flushed. "Because you wanted.." The words echoed in his head. Kind, brave, strong, handsome… She thought these things about HIM. She cared about HIM. He felt warmer, and against any better judgment, he dropped his axe and stepped forward in one fluid motion to take her jaw and kiss her again. Because hell if he didn't like it too.
He caught her in a surprised gasp, lips apart. Amazement rippled her brain as she realized Tyson was kissing her, holding her against him. Tyson, the proud elf, cast aside his racial prejudice and more literally his weapon, to embrace her lips in an unbelievable warmth. Once her brain caught up to her body, she realized that all her inexperience was unimportant in this moment, than for once simply not thinking would lead her to all that she desired. She let him guide her lips and threw her arms around his shoulders. Every moment of fear and terror and pain they met in battle, all was worth it so she could have survived to this one kiss.
Tyson didn't know what he was doing, he didn't know what would become of them after this, but he didn't care. He knew that he felt happy, happier than he did every time he kissed a prostitute. The same pang of elation he felt when she handed him his axe that she'd thought to grab for him with a shy smile on her face. And he cared about her. He cared about her in battle when some bandit had the gall to attack her, or when she managed to burn enemies into ashes before their eyes, or when Saeran talked to her and told her meaningless compliments that meant something to her. And somehow caring made this so much better. Tyson let his arms curl around her waist and back, and lost himself in her, hoping to hang onto this feeling at least for the rest of the night.
Tyson pressed against Jennessa, backing her legs into the bed so that they buckled and she landed softly on the mattress. He kicked off his boots and crawled up until he was hovering over her, leaning down and trailing kisses up the side of her jaw and down to her neck where he sucked gently on her collarbone.
Jennessa felt a nervous bout of butterflies as he pressed her into the bed. She couldn't clearly say whether this is what she wanted or not, at least not while his lips wandered towards her pounding heart. "Oh, Tyson," Jennessa murmured, without really meaning to, letting a hand wander slowly and explore his firm chest.
Tyson hummed in response, leaning into her touch, and moved to continue his descent after leaving a define mark on Jennessa's otherwise pale neck. His eyelids drooped and he lowered his body so he didn't have to support it so much on his arms. He lifted his mouth to Jennessa's again, kissing her deeper than before.
As he kissed her, Jennessa knew for certain there was nothing in her willpower she could do to stop Tyson from whatever he wanted to do to her. She twisted a lock of his hair around her finger and pressed her lips against his with all the passion in her exploding heart.
Tyson broke the kiss, breathing heavily and shifting to murmur into her ear,
"Jennessa, you're brave too. I want you to know what I think. I think.. you're.. you… " The second his head touched the pillow he was out, his body draped heavily over Jennessa's whilst he elicited quiet snores.
Jennessa waited for a moment. "I... I'm what?" She gave Tyson a gentle shove, to no result (except for a little creak in the mattress). "You're asleep." Jennessa breathed a disappointed sigh and made a great effort to get out from underneath him. The body so full of passion a moment ago was now totally immobile, except for heaves of breath for snoring. "You can't sleep here." Jennessa said gently, to absolutely no purpose. "Your friends are waiting for you at the party. And what is Sly going to think? Tyson?" Jennessa finally gave up stirring him and decided to let him sleep. Should he sleep with all those clothes on? No, no, definitely not best to undress the unconscious paladin in your bed. Jennessa instead simply wrapped him up in her blanket, climbed into the bed a respectable space away from him, and extinguished the oil lamp with a fluid snap of her fingers.