Author's Note: And here we go, the end of the fic. I'd originally considered ending things at the end of Alfyn's Chapter 4, but 1) I'm unreasonably attached to Ogen, and 2) Alfyn's Chapter 4 banter with Olberic really made me want to give Ogen and Olberic a proper interaction. Plus, I feel like this makes a much better wrap-up for the fic, anyway.

Also, I played a bit with the order of stuff here, since while pretty much every player is likely to do Ogen's sidequest before the Galdera fight, you're not required to, and I didn't want to imply that everyone split up before the final battle. Anyway, this fic was really fun to write, so thanks to everyone who's read along!

Chapter Four: Meeting Again

Things had been quiet the past few months, and Olberic was fine with that.

After his companions had finished their journeys, and after they'd had one final adventure together, everyone had gone their separate ways. Still, Olberic did his best to keep in contact with everyone when he returned to Cobbleston. He sent letters to everyone he was able to, and Therion sometimes dropped by to visit (he usually tried to mask it as passing through out of boredom, but he did a poor job of convincing anyone). Erhardt even wrote to him occasionally, and Olberic found himself enjoying the correspondence.

He still trained the village men in combat, and he still defended the town from bandits now and then. Phillip sneaked into practice sessions sometimes, and Olberic was too fond of the boy to shoo him away. Gaston showed up frequently, too, and his overly-enthusiastic fighting style did a lot to raise the men's spirits.

And, Olberic happily admitted, he often had the chance to practice his newfound apothecary skills. Most commonly, he patched up injuries the townsfolk got while traveling the nearby highlands. Once, he mixed up a tonic to reduce a girl's fever, much to her mother's delight. Phillip came down with a cough not long afterwards, and Olberic heard him proudly telling another lad how quickly Olberic's medicine had cured him.

It was…well, it was nice, for lack of a better word. Olberic was more content now than he'd ever been, and it didn't go unnoticed by his friends and neighbors. Gaston elbowed him one night at the tavern, grinning as he downed half a pint of mead in one swig.

"You got a light in your eyes now," he said, roughly wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "I take it you found what you were looking for out there?"

"Aye." Olberic smiled, taking a sip of his own ale. "I did."

Gaston clapped him on the back, and Olberic wheezed, nearly choking on his drink. That prompted a laugh from Gaston, and Olberic couldn't bring himself to be mad about it. Before he could speak up again, the tavern door swung open, and Olberic was greeted by a familiar voice.

"Oh, hey! Figured I'd find you here," Alfyn said, sliding into a seat at the table. "How you been?"

"Alfyn?" Olberic blinked. "I thought you—"

"Went back to Clearbrook? Yeah, I did for a while," Alfyn replied, shrugging. "And don't get me wrong, I plan on going back again! I just figure I can help people at home and travel a bit, yeah? No reason I can't do both."

"Friend of yours, Olberic?" Gaston said, grinning as he eyed the apothecary. "Well, you know what they say! Best way to get to know a man is to have a few drinks together. What say I pay for a few rounds of mead, lad?"

Alfyn's eyes glittered. "Well, shucks, I like the way you think! I'm gonna take you up on that."

Olberic sighed as they began chatting away eagerly, but he couldn't keep a smile off his face. As long as they were happy and didn't drink too much, he couldn't fault them for getting to know each other.

It didn't surprise him when Alfyn staggered out of the tavern half-drunk a few hours later, but Olberic didn't mind half-dragging him home and letting him crash on his bed for the night, either.

"Hey, you wanna come with me, Olberic? It can be just like before—helping people out, working on our medicines together, yeah?"

Alfyn made the offer upon getting over his hangover the next day. It didn't take Olberic long to accept; he knew Cobbleston would be in good hands while he was away. Gaston could handle things for a couple of weeks, and Olberic did plan on returning. Alfyn understood that Olberic wouldn't be able to travel as long as he did, and they were both fine with that arrangement.

They made stops at a few small villages, tending to the occasional sickness and injury as they went. At one point, they found themselves in Victor's Hollow. Olberic was quite amused when Cecily sputtered in shock after he rejected her offer to participate in another tournament, instead patching up a small gash on her hand.

The last stop Olberic planned on making with Alfyn was up in Northreach. While some of the villagers were still wary of outsiders, it seemed to have improved from the last time they'd been there. If nothing else, there weren't mobs of thieves loitering about the village square, pouncing on people out in the open, and that was a relief.

Unsurprisingly, Alfyn insisted on stopping for drinks before they went to the inn for the night. There, they ran into yet another familiar face. Ogen looked up in surprise when Alfyn promptly settled next to him at the bar, dragging Olberic along with him.

"Hey, old man!" he greeted eagerly. "What are you doing here? How've you been? Taking better care of yourself?"

Ogen snorted in amusement. "I don't need you to tell me to take care of myself, Alfyn. I can't heal people if I don't, remember? That's…why I'm here."

He fiddled with his mug as Alfyn waved down the bartender. Olberic noticed his fidgeting, but he refrained from commenting on it as he ordered a glass of ale. They sat quietly for a few seconds, sipping at their drinks, but Alfyn spoke up again soon.

"Well, I'm glad I'm not gonna have to knock your ass down and make you get some rest again," he teased. "But, anyway…that's why we're here, too. Not sure how long Olberic's going to stay, but we've been helping people out on the way."

Olberic nodded. "Though I suppose with three of us, it won't take too long to help anyone who needs it, aye?"

"Indeed. I…may be able to spare a visit to…" Ogen sighed. "No, I should go anyway. I've put it off too long."

Alfyn blinked. "Put what off too long? You ain't got anything else to hide, do you?"

"No, I suppose I can tell you, after everything you've done for me." Ogen smiled fondly, though his eyes looked slightly distant. "My wife is buried here. Would you…like to come with me?"

Ah, perhaps that was what had distracted him earlier, Olberic realized. It was good to see the expression on his face, though; still pensive, but not pained. There was something almost sweet about the way his eyes warmed up when Alfyn reached over and clapped him on the shoulder.

"'Course I would! Just show us the way, and we'll come with you. Won't we, Olberic?"

He blinked. "Me, too?"

"If you want," Ogen offered. "I wouldn't mind a friend of Alfyn's coming along. Unless, of course, you don't want to…"

"No, I will."

It was with that that the trio finished their drinks and made their way outside.

When they arrived at the small graveyard on the northern edge of town, Ogen directed them to a tombstone at its eastern edge. Olberic kept a few paces behind him and Alfyn. He'd been invited along, but it felt appropriate to give them some space. Ogen spoke to Melyssa in a soft, gentle tone, and Alfyn rambled on in his usual friendly way. Eventually, he set the flowers they'd bought from a girl back in Victor's Hollow down in front of the grave, and Ogen was unable to swallow the lump in his throat.

"You see that?" Alfyn said, his voice low. "He really does love you! You must've been real lucky to have him while you were here. I knew Ogen was a sentimental fool!"

Ogen shook his head, a small smile on his face in spite of everything. Then, he stood up, tugged on Olberic's arm, and led him over to Melyssa's tombstone. Olberic was surprised by the abruptness of the action, but he knelt down beside him anyway.

"Did you know Alfyn's not only helped me, but Olberic, too?" Ogen said. "I…should really learn from his example. It takes a great man to not only heal, but teach."

"Shucks, you ain't gotta flatter me again!" Alfyn wiped his eyes. "Hear that? He's done nothing but talk about me this whole time!"

"Not the whole time…" Ogen muttered.

Olberic smiled lightly. "I don't think it's unwarranted; he has taught me much." He turned his eyes to the grave and added, "Your husband and I are both lucky to have met Alfyn. I…don't know much about you, but I think you would have liked him."

"She would," Ogen whispered. "She really would have."

He reached up to rub his face, and Alfyn wrapped an arm around his shoulder. The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes before Ogen took a deep, shaky breath. He stared at his wife's resting place and swallowed.

"I'll come back, Melyssa. I promise I won't leave you alone for so long again."

Olberic didn't mind having to support the other two on the way to the inn, nor did he mind the occasional amused looks their awkward gait received.

"Show me how well he's taught you."

They were nearly ready for bed; Alfyn went into the washroom to clean himself up, and Olberic and Ogen were sitting in the room. Ogen popped the question suddenly, but Olberic didn't mind. He nodded, standing up and walking over to him.

"All right. What may I do for you?"

"I've had a temperature and a cough the past few days. Show me what you'd do about that."

Olberic nodded. It was simple enough to treat at face value, but he knew there were a variety of factors that could cause such a condition. He brushed Ogen's hair aside, feeling the man's forehead. While he was a bit warm, he wasn't alarmingly so; his temperature would probably go down soon.

Still…one didn't get a temperature for no reason. Olberic carefully ran his hands down Ogen's neck; it didn't feel swollen. Finally, he rested a hand on Ogen's chest. The close contact no longer felt as awkward to Olberic as it once did; it was just part of the checkup routine to him now.

"Deep breaths for me," he instructed.

Ogen did as told. His breathing was somewhat ragged, but his chest rose and fell with no other issue. Finally, Olberic stepped back and nodded. He rifled through his bag as he spoke, gathering a few ingredients and a small vial.

"Likely just a cold due to the weather," Olberic explained. "Alfyn's taught me how to make a tonic for that."

He carefully measured and mixed the ingredients. Upon finishing, Olberic handed the jar to him. Ogen accepted it and examined the mixture—appraising, but not judgmental. Finally, he nodded and drank the concoction, setting the now-empty vial back on the table.

"A basic mixture, but the color and consistency are good," he commented. "I'm sure it will start working soon."

"I should hope so." Olberic raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I'm a poor excuse for a student if it doesn't."

"I doubt it." A smile tugged at Ogen's lips. "Alfyn would never let you get away without learning anything. He's not like that at all."

"Nay, he isn't. Alfyn's too committed for that."

"Committed," Ogen repeated under his breath. "That's one word for it. I'd say he's more stubborn. Yes…like a stubborn, frustrating son who won't ever stop letting you know how much he cares."

Like a son…there was something touching about hearing Ogen phrase it that way. It came with a slight edge, of course, but it proved how much Alfyn had gotten through to him. And there was some truth to it, too, Olberic thought.

"Aye," Olberic agreed. "There's a lad in my village who's almost like a son to me, too. Alfyn's not quite the same, but…I suppose he's close."

No, Alfyn wasn't exactly like Phillip; he didn't need the same kind of guidance that the young boy did. He was also much too old to be a true son figure to either Olberic or Ogen. But maybe he was like a younger brother: eager to both teach and learn, and unable to give up on anyone he cared about. It was a kind of familial bond, and Olberic was surprisingly not surprised with how comfortable he was describing it like that.

"Yes, he's close. I…think Melyssa would've liked to have a boy like him, too."

Ogen did nothing to hide his tears, nor did he push Olberic away when the warrior sat down beside him and rested a hand on his arm. Alfyn strode back into the room to find Ogen with his face buried in Olberic's shoulder, and he smiled softly before settling on Ogen's other side. He wrapped an arm around Ogen, his hand resting on Olberic's back, and he leaned down against Ogen's arm.

"Who's the sentimental sop now?" Alfyn teased gently.

"Shut up and let me cry, boy," Ogen muttered into Olberic's neck. "I think I've earned this much, haven't I?" He took another deep breath. "I…thank you. Both of you."

Olberic nodded, bringing his other arm around to close the circle. He wasn't the best at outward displays of affection, but…there was something comfortable about the situation. It felt natural, and he couldn't help another grin when Alfyn's hand met his.

"All right, guess you have," Alfyn mumbled. "You ain't gotta thank me for doing my job, though. It's just what I do. I said I was gonna fix you—and it ain't just physical wounds, you know?"

Yes…emotional wounds needed patching, too. Each of them knew that well.

Maybe someday, Olberic would be as good as Alfyn was at helping people that way, but he'd keep trying. He'd already learned how to heal people's physical injuries. Healing hearts was a much more difficult process, but Olberic had already learned how important it was.

And, as the three of them sat together in a heap, Olberic thought that maybe he'd be able to do it eventually after all.