Therion gives Alfyn some much needed emotional support. Major spoilers for Alfyn's Ch 3.

Drinking to Forget

Midnight had been Therion's favourite time of day for many years now.

Under the cover of darkness, he was able to steal with far more ease than during the day and those that he found in the tavern this time of night were either still celebrating – therefore trusting and easy to pickpocket – or drowning their sorrows in the weak mead or strong wine they brewed here in Saintsbridge – also easy targets once you got them talking about their grief.

Making his way from the inn to the tavern with a pocket picked here and a purse stolen there, Therion spared no thought for those he was hurting, thinking only of how these stolen goods would benefit him and those he was traveling with. Though Tressa would scream bloody murder at him if she found out he was stealing from potential customers, she was happy to turn a blind eye when she saw the 'treasures' he'd purloined every morning – although he made a point of never showing Ophilia his stolen goods; Tressa might forgive and forget, but it was best not to cross the cleric.

Arriving at the tavern, the thief saw the usual sight – a few drunken partiers paying a little too much attention to the dancing girl (though she looked about as dangerous as their own dancer, so Therion wasn't too worried for her); and a few more angry drunks just waiting for the word to send them brawling. A small smile on his features as he surveyed the impending chaos, he almost missed the lone blonde man sat at the bar, his head bowed and flagon of mead sat empty in front of him.

Cursing his new-found compassion, Therion took a seat next to Alfyn.

"A round for me and my friend here." He ordered the barkeep, plonking a few leaves down as he gave them their drinks.

Alfyn looked up in confusion at Therion before taking a sip. "Thanks." Said he simply as they clinked their rims and drank in silence.

"What are you doing up, Therion?" Alfyn asked after a few moments, his voice lacking its usual prep and cheer.

"Prime stealing time." He replied simply as Alfyn rolled his eyes. Despite all their reservations about his trade, they'd all (perhaps tentatively) accepted it as they travelled together across Orsterra. "Though, I could be asking you much the same question."

Alfyn drank in silence.

Biting down his desire not to get involved, Therion sighed. "Alright, what's bothering you, medicine man?"

Silence descended on them again as Alfyn continued to look away from the thief. Beginning to think he'd never reply, Therion looked away himself.

Finally, very quietly, Alfyn asked, "How many men have you killed, Therion?"

"… More than my fair share, though none without reason." He answered honestly though evasively as he realised what was eating at the apothecary. "Is this about Miguel?"

"I've never had reason to kill a man afore," Alfyn still looked away. "And the only reason I did today was 'cause of my own actions. But if I hadn't… I'ma healer, but, what if some people don't deserve to be saved? What do I do then?"

"You carry on," Therion said simply, looking his companion in the eye as he finally turned to face him. "Head held high, knowing you did the right thing. And if you realise you made a mistake, you fix it – just like you did today."

"Therion…"

Though he'd never been in quite the same situation as Alfyn, Therion could understand and even empathise with the man. During his younger days, he'd had many doubts about the path he treaded and whether those he stole from needed what he took more than he did. But, he'd had a partner by his side to assuage those thoughts, at least in the beginning. And when his partner became the route of those doubts and fears…

"Tonight, we drink to forget." Therion held his flagon high, holding the other man's eyes with his own. "And tomorrow, we wake up, drink one of your hangover tonics, and carry on the path we tread, content in the knowledge that we fix our mistakes as we make them. …Deal?"

There were tears in the apothecary's eyes as he raised his drink. "Shucks, Therion." He smiled, finally looking like himself again. "Deal."

They clinked rims and drank the watery mead down, ordering another round as soon as the flagons hit the bar.

Before long, they were as merry as the others celebrating there that night, laughing together as Alfyn told the more sober thief stories that he'd certainly forget in the morning. Despite being relatively sober, Therion decided to put his smile and the warm feeling in his body down to the mead, not the fact that he was laughing with a companion once again…

Please feel free to let me know if you have any suggestions for future chapters!