"How to properly express your appreciation to someone? Oh, now that's a topic I'm quite familiar with, hah! But I'm flattered you would come ask me first, Noire!"

"She didn't."

"Well, as you know, a master doesn't just give away trade secrets or else I'd be out of the dating pool faster than you can say fresh meat! But I suppose one or two general pointers in the art of wooing couldn't hurt, if that's what you were looking for."

"She wasn't."

"Now, some say it's cliché, but in my honest opinion, you can't go wrong with the classics, you know? Imagine this, a nice candle-lit dinner on a pristine lake, with a bottle of fine sherry to share between the two you, followed by a sweet serenade 'neath the shadow of the moon."

Gerome threw his hands up in exasperation. "I'm leaving," he growled, picking up his breakfast plate.

"Oh no, you don't!" Nah reached across Noire and tugged him back down with practiced ease. He yelped and furrowed his brows furiously in her direction, no doubt embarrassed by how easily manhandled he was by the diminutive manakete. She simply scoffed at his reaction. "Don't give me that look, mister."

"You can't even see my eyes."

"Don't need to; you've got a case of the sulking eyebrows," retorted Nah as Noire hesitantly patted his back. "And frankly, you could use a little help in the romance department."

Gerome's eyebrows were scandalized v's. "What?! I am plenty romantic."

Nah stared flatly back at him. "Your idea of romantic is to use a tree stump as a table and to share a loaf of week old bread between the two of us. All with Minerva watching." Nah pointed at him accusingly. "So sit down and start taking notes, buster."

"…My eyebrows do not sulk," Gerome muttered as he crossed his arms. Nah ignored him and nodded to Noire to continue.

"Go on, ask your questions."

Noire wasn't quite sure she wanted to anymore but she went ahead anyways. "Okay, so um…" She scratched her head with her pencil and wondered if these people really could help her. At least Inigo had an idea, though it seemed highly unlikely that she could find a lake just sitting nearby. "After your moonlit dinner on the lake, what then?"

"Ah, right. Well… after that, usually I pay them a compliment." Inigo scratched his chin and then snapped his fingers. "Ah! Something like…" He put one hand on his heart and struck a flamboyant gesture with his other. "'My dearest, you are the very essence of sheer beauty. Your very shine radiates brighter than a trove of dragonstones and each breath I take with you leaves me blind and breathless.'"

"Oooookay." She pretended to write that down. Gerome made a gagging motion. Nah looked skeptical.

Further down the table, Laurent noisily cleared his throat. "False. Your use of the word radiate implies that a dragonstone emits its own light, like the sun, which is incorrect. A dragonstone simply reflects existing light with a greater intensity than most minerals of similar construction."

Inigo's rapturous expression quickly soured. "Look, that's not the point, smart mouth."

Laurent took off his glasses and began polishing them, unfazed by the dirty look Inigo sent his way. "Merely rectifying your misconception, friend. Oh and as for the blind and breathless part, I'm a certified ophthalmologist if you'd like me to take a look at that. Have you been spending an extended amount of time staring directly at the sun, by any chance?"

"Why must you ruin it?" Inigo groused while Nah snickered. "It's a metaphor. A METAPHOR." He sighed and leaned back on his chair. "Forget it. It's no wonder that the subtleties of the romantic are lost on you, Mr. Bookworm," he sniped.

Laurent, however, simply smiled enigmatically and resumed polishing his glasses.

Inigo's eyes narrowed at the suspicious lack of reaction. "What, nothing to say?"

"Rather, there is simply no need to say anything else."

Inigo's eyes narrowed further before they shot open wide. "No… No. Way. You're not implying what I think you're implying… are you?"

Noire looked confusedly between the two. Laurent was definitely smirking now.

Inigo jabbed an accusatory finger at him. "You…You can't be serious!There's just… No." The finger shook slightly. "It's just not possible!"

"Whatever do you mean, friend?" said Laurent, placing a cloying amount of geniality in the last word. Beside him, Nah looked to be having some sort of laughing fit as Gerome snorted.

Inigo leapt up from the table. "There's no way on this Naga loving earth that you could woo a girl before me!" he yelled, voice cracking on the last syllable

"I believe the colloquialism goes…" Laurent finished polishing and slipped his glasses back on with an almost triumphant flourish. "That's for me to know and you to find out."

Inigo's expression turned stricken and Noire began to feel a bit sorry for him.

Nah finally burst out laughing. "HAH! Oh gods, I can't feel my ribs. Pfahahahah!"

"N-no, this isn't- it can't!" Inigo turned to each one of them, looking as if they had all gone insane. "I refuse to believe this. You hear me?!" he turned and dashed out of the mess tent, upsetting a stack of plates and nearly bowling over a poor passerby in his getaway. "I REFUUUUUUUSE!"

Noire looked worriedly after him; those hadn't been tears in his eyes, right?

Nah wiped away a tear before turning to her husband. "You know what I said about taking notes earlier? Toss 'em."

"Oh thank Naga," muttered Gerome into his cup.

Laurent cleared his throat again and Noire turned her attention back to him. "Well, now that all the children are gone from this conversation, might I ask just what brought along this line of inquiry, Noire?" he asked, looking genuinely curious, though it was a bit hard to tell with him. Laurent's general setting seemed to be permanently set to unbounded curiosity. "It seems a rather odd thing to ask of us. Well, not for Inigo, but his successes are imaginary at best."

"Point," said Gerome, pushing away his plate. "I'd have pegged you as someone who wouldn't give two figs about all this affection rubbish."

"Gerome!"

Noire quickly shook her head. "Oh no, it's not for me. Well, it is but… I'm just trying to get a few ideas to use. Though I'm not too sure Inigo understood my question…" She sighed. "I just want to do something nice for Se-someone, not take them out on a lake and do… whatever it is he said."

"That someone being?"

"A-a friend," she hedged, not too comfortable with letting the other's know. Rumors could travel up the vine and back to Severa and that would just ruin the whole point of the surprise.

Gerome nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer. Nah on the other hand, visibly perked up. "Wait. You said a friend?" she asked, leaning forward and looking at her with a sudden unnerving amount of interest.

"Ah, yes."

Nah leaned in even further. "Just what sort of 'friend,' hmmmm?"

"Uhh…"

"A special friend, then?" The manakete was practically vibrating in her face. "Would you call them a 'friend'-friend? You know, a friend friend?"

"I- uhm…" The glint in Nah's eyes was making her feel extremely discomfited. What did that even mean, friend-friend?

"Yesss?"

Nah's immediate reaction was to squeal loudly and across the table, Laurent and Gerome exchanged subtle, impressed looks. "Oh, gosh, it's actually happening for you, too!" she said, not making a lick of sense to Noire. "Oh gosh, oh my gosh!" Her arms began to wave erratically, causing everyone around her to duck.

Gerome caught one and gently lowered them. "Breathe, dear," he commanded.

Nah caught herself and nodded sheepishly. "R-right, right, of course. Whew!" She exhaled, accidentally releasing a small burst of flame from her lips, causing everyone to duck out of the way again. "Sorry! Sorry." She placed her hand over hers and Noire suddenly realized that the gleam in her eyes were stars.

"I'm just so happy for you, Noire! Congratulations!"

"Uhhh… thanks…." Noire muttered, completely unsure what they were celebrating. "I think." Had Nah always been so… excitable? Or was it after she married the stoic wyvern rider? Maybe she was being excited for the both of them.

"Nah is right," added Laurent, a warm smile on his face. "Congratulations are in order."

"I guess?" Maybe I should have just taken Inigo's advice and created my own man made lake. Oh but then I'd have to get a boat as well. Where on earth would I be able to find a boat?

Nah suddenly smacked her head. "But where's my head? You said you needed advice, right? Actual advice and none of Inigo's imaginings."

"Actually, I think I'm going to go with—."

Nah continued as if she hadn't heard her "Well, you've come to the right place! As your friends but not as your friend-friend," she waggled her eyebrows. Noire tentatively waggled back. "The best piece of advice I can give you is to just be yourself. Don't put on airs, don't pretend, don't be someone you're not. Just be yourself, okay?"

"Be yourself," she repeated, then frowned. "Er… which self?"

"Probably the one that doesn't do the whole screaming damnation thing."

"Ah." Noire nodded understandingly. "Gotcha. I can do that. Be yourself."

Laurent leaned forward. "Might I also add, that if you're planning a dual activity of sorts with your friend, choose a setting that both of you are familiar with." He smiled ruefully. "Comfort is key, and I can speak from personal experience that a quiet area away from the bustle of daily life can bring out the best in both of you."

Nah nodded before looking to Gerome with an expectant expression. He stared back blankly, his expression unreadable thanks to the mask. Nah rolled her eyes and gestured with her head to Noire. "Well, go on! It's your turn."

"When did this turn into show-and-tell?" he grumbled, but he leaned his elbows on the table and pondered for a second.

"The idiot," he said, referring to Inigo, "had the right idea. It never hurts to pay them a compliment or two."

"Or three!" chirped Nah

"Just don't make them so…" he grimaced. "Flowery."

"Or so scientifically inaccurate," added Laurent.

"I-I see," Noire mumbled, trying to write all the suggestions down. "This is a lot to remember."

Laurent clucked sympathetically. "If I might be so bold to make another suggestion, perhaps you could ask for advice from those that are more… experienced, let us say. People like your parents for example."

As if on cue, her father walked in right at that moment. He caught Noire's eye and gave her a curt nod before heading over to the front to get his breakfast.

Or course! If her parents could survive all those years together, then surely they'd have some sort of idea on how to express their affection for each other. "That's a good idea." She got up and gave a small bow to the group. "Thanks for all your help."

"Anytime." Nah watched Noire scurry over to Lon'qu before sighing wistfully. "Ahhh, the heart of a maiden in love…" She waited a few seconds before adding, "Stop rolling your eyes."

Gerome flinched. "You can't even see my – never mind."

Further away, Noire stepped past a few milling soldiers to make her way over to her father's table. He was munching morosely on some sort of breakfast biscuit that looked more rock than biscuit and he put it down when their eyes met. "Noire."

"Hello father," she said, remembering to sit down at a respectable distance away. Her father's fear of woman had lessened with age but here in the past, she felt it was better to err on the side of caution. She didn't mind. Her father had been a distant man in her future as well, but there were some things about his character that never seemed to change, like the small smiles that would crinkle the edges of his eyes or the little nicknames he gave her when he was pleased. "How are you?"

He shrugged noncommittally. "As fine as I'll ever be. Though I might skip out on breakfast if I want to stay that way." He lifted the biscuit and dropped it. It hit the plate with frighteningly solid thunk! "I suspect either Sully or her daughter is on mess duty right now."

"Ah." She eyed the biscuit warily. "I think I'll stick with an apple for breakfast then."

"Smart girl," said her father, giving her a small smile that she returned herself. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, right. I meant to ask you… Oh but first, where's mother?"

"Still sleeping. She stayed up late last night working on some sort of hex or another. I'll bring her something edible later." He picked up his mug. "Do you need her for something?"

Noire shook her head, "No. But… um, well… I have a question that's sort of about her and you."

He eyed her curiously. "Shoot."

She hesitated briefly, not entirely sure how to phrase her question tactfully. "How exactly… do you show…?"

"Show what?"

"Your affection. To mother?"

Her father paused, mug halfway to his mouth. Noire waited patiently. He put it down and considered for a second.

"Carefully," he answered in all seriousness, as if he had been asked how to approach a sleeping dragon guarding its hoard. "Very, very carefully."

Ah, so safety was important for both parties. Noire nodded in understanding. Interesting but it did make sense. Mother had awfully sharp nails in any case. "I see. Thank you, father."

He grunted and resumed eating. "Anytime, little bird."

Noire had planned on finding her mother afterwards to ask her opinion on the matter but somehow she was roped into helping out with kitchen duty by the hurricane twins, Marc and Morgan. It was more of a babysitting detail than actual cooking, since the two shared the same boundless curiosity like their parents and Noire had to quickly intervene and remind them that no, mustard was not an acceptable condiment to put on marshmallows and that kitchen knives were to be used for cutting, not mock epic sword fights with each other and OH GODS THAT LOBSTER SOMEHOW HAD IT'S CLAW ON MARC'S NOSE, HOW DID THIS SPIRAL OUT OF CONTROL SO QUICKLY.

"I-I think, I'm going to go fetch some water," she said faintly, after they somehow managed to pry the lobster off and Morgan had thrown it into the pot. Truthfully, she needed to get away before somebody lost an eye. It seemed inevitable when working with the twins.

"Good idea," said Morgan, poking at her brother's swollen nose with gleeful curiosity.

Marc batted her away. "Bring some bandages, too." He called out as Noire slipped out with the bucket.

However, when Noire got to the well, somebody was already there. Two familiar somebodies.

"Henry!" The woman with the long crimson hair put down the bucket and placed her hand on her hips, trying to sound stern but failing. "This is ridiculous!"

"Ridiculously great, you mean!" commented her companion, a man with snow white hair and a cheerful smile that was just shy of mischievous.

Severa's parents. Henry and Cordelia. Noire remembered them. They had always been so nice to her whenever she visited. Cordelia baked cookies. Henry made terrible jokes. Together they made her feel at home just as much as she did in her own house.

Cordelia tried vainly to untangle herself from the scarf they were sharing. "No, it's just ridiculous," she retorted, though the smile in her voice made it much less serious.

Henry, was having none of that and he simply twirled himself closer to his wife each time she tried to unravel the scarf. "Now, now, honey, don't be like that," he said, draping an arm around her. "You'll just end up tripping and spilling the pail again."

"We tripped because you decided sharing a scarf would be a good idea."

"It was a good idea! Because now I'm very cozy and you're very pretty."

Cordelia placed a hand to her forehead in mock exasperation, trying valiantly to stop her lips from smiling. "I'm not sure that's how scarves work."

"Well, that's how they do for me!" Henry leaned forward and placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek and Cordelia giggled a bit and placed a hand on his chest and oookay, that was probably enough unintentional spying for today.

Noire coughed and hesitantly revealed herself. "Um, p-pardon me."

Cordelia jumped in surprise. "Oh!" She quickly ducked out of the scarf and slipped it off, ignoring the pout Henry sent her way. "S-sorry," she apologized with a quick bow, face as red as her hair. "We didn't think anybody else was here to use the well."

Noire quickly shook her head. "Oh, n-no, it's my fault for not saying anything earlier."

"Nonsense, we'll just get out of your way and…" Cordelia lifted her head and paused. A flash of recognition crossed her face. "Wait… You're…Noire?"

"Um… yes?"

Cordelia smiled. "I knew it." She took a step and wrapped the archer in a hug. "It's good to see you!"

"I-it is?" she asked, honestly baffled. She had been close to Severa's family in her timeline but that was in her future. In this timeline, Severa's parents only knew her in passing

Cordelia almost looked offended. "Of course! It's nice to finally meet you." She smiled, and oh, it was the same smile that Noire remembered. "Severa mentions you all the time."

For some reason, the fact that Severa mentioned her to her parent's made her want to smile. She ducked her head. "All good things, I hope?"

"Of course!" chimed Henry. "If I remember right, she calls you… what was it? Oh! Miss Doom-and-Gloom!"

Cordelia looked scandalized. "Henry!"

But Noire giggled. "Yep, that's definitely me. Severa has other names but that's the one she likes to use the most."

Henry cackled. "Miss Doom-and-Gloom, huh? I think we'll get along just killingly, nya ha!"

Cordelia rolled her eyes as her husband was overtaken by the chuckles. "Forgive him. We'll just be getting out of your way now."

"Sure," she said, before the advice she had gotten earlier sprung back to her mind. Oh, of course! Why didn't she think of that earlier? What better way to get information about Severa's likes and dislikes than from her own parents?

"Actually…" she paused. "I know we just met and all, but would you mind doing a really big favor for me?"

"Oh, sot at all!" Cordelia said earnestly while Henry nodded. "What is it? Do you need help drawing the water?"

"N-no…" I don't look that sickly… do I? Noire thought before pushing it aside. "It's…um, would you be willing to answer some questions about Severa?"

The two exchanged odd looks. "Questions about… Severa?" Cordelia repeated, brows furrowing. "Well, that's hardly the big favor I thought it would be…"

"Ah…yeah… Sorry."

"Oh don't apologize. We'd love to help. It's just…" Cordelia hesitated. "Wouldn't you know Severa better than we do right now?"

"I—" Oh. How could she have been so inconsiderate? These weren't the same Cordelia and Henry of her time. They had only just found out they even had a daughter. It was only a few weeks ago that they even realized they had a daughter and Severa had only recently reconciled with her parents.

Well, there goes that idea. Noire sighed. "You're right. That was dumb of me. Sorry for wasting your time."

"Oh, no! It's fine, really," Cordelia said quickly to reassure the archer. "Actually, I have an idea. Why don't we switch the roles?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we know so little about her but you've been her friend since childhood, right?" said Cordelia. "So instead of you asking, why don't we ask the questions? Maybe it'll help you remember something that would help for whatever problem you're having?"

Oh. Now that could definitely work. Maybe there was a subconscious memory in her mind that would help her find something that Severa liked. Either way, a good idea was bound to come out of it. She nodded slowly, lowering the bucket down the well. "I could do that. What would you like to know then?"

Cordelia clapped in excitement. "Excellent!" she thought for a few seconds. "Let's start with something basic. What's Severa's favorite color?"

Noire had to smirk a bit. Too easy. "Red," she said instantly and then smiled at the surprise that flitted over Cordelia's face. "Red is her favorite, but white is a close second."

"Oh. That's…" Cordelia coughed into her hand. "I see," she said and then turned to her husband with an apologetic smile that was just a hint pleased. "Sorry, dear."

Henry chuckled and waved it off, leaning forward to help Noire with the bucket. "Ahh, I don't mind. She's stuck with my hair color after all. My turn!" he said enthusiastically. "So I'm guessing we gave her a teddy bear when she was a kid, right?"

Noire nodded, gratefully accepting the dark mage's help. "Right. Oh but, uh, I didn't tell you that," she added quickly.

Henry smirked craftily. "Oh don't worry. I just want to know the name of the teddy bear. It had to be something silly, right? Like, Fluffy-paws or…or… Braintosser!"

"Not… exactly," she said slowly, trying to recall the word Severa had used when she had finally shown Noire her own bear. She could remember Severa's cheeks colored red with embarrassment and the glances to the side but the name was eluding her. "It was a really strange name so…" It was on the tip of her tongue. "Oh! I remember! Volug! She called it Volug."

Henry dropped the bucket.

Thankfully, Cordelia rushed forward and managed to catch the other end before it could spill. She turned to her husband with a worried expression. "Henry?"

He ignored her and turned Noire, face unsmiling. "She…" he stopped and then tried again. "That was its name? You're sure?"

"Y-yes," she affirmed warily. "I-is something wrong?"

"Oh,no, no." He turned away and ran a hand through his hair. "Just… remembering some things. I was raised by a Volug," he said in way of explanation, letting out a chuckle that sounded more like a sigh. "Well not raised but…" he trailed off.

Cordelia put a hand on his shoulder and he smiled briefly and squeezed her hand. "I'm fine. Really."

"You sure?"

"Nothing a little bloodshed and thumb-ripping can't fix," he said and smiled. He nudged her with his shoulder. "Go on. It's your turn."

Cordelia smiled gently and gave his shoulder another squeeze before turning to Noire. "Let's do something a bit simpler, shall we? What sort of foods does she enjoy? Besides dessert of course."

Severa did enjoy her sweets, that was for sure. "Well… she's not a picky eater; none of us really are if you wanted to survive, so I don't think she has a favorite but…" A flash of inspiration suddenly struck her and she paused. "Actually, I just had an idea. If it's not too much trouble, could I get your help in making something?"

"Is it another one of your 'big' favors?" asked Cordelia with a small smile.

Noire chuckled. "It's a little bigger than the one earlier."

Cordelia hefted the bucket in her hand and offered the opposite handle to her. "Tell you what. Let's head back to camp and if you don't mind answering our questions, we'll help you with whatever you need, deal?"

Noire smiled and took the handle. "Deal."

A plan was slowly starting to come together in Noire's mind by the time she bid Henry and Cordelia goodbye, carrying a basket containing the fruits of her labor. Along with a little help from Henry and Cordelia of course.

The time she spent with them was both strangely comforting as well as nostalgic. Cordelia was still patient and motherly and Henry still had his habit of cracking silly puns and disconcerting statements about bloodshed. All in all, it had been one of the more enjoyable afternoons she had ever spent with Severa's parents.

Psst!

Noire stopped. She looked left and right but all she saw were tents. Who—?

"Noire, hey!"

Oh, gods were the voices in her head back again?! Back for their vengeance? I thought I got rid of all of you!

"Over here!"

Wait, when did the voices in her head ever sound so masculine? Or just like Inigo for that matter?

…Oh wait, the voice was Inigo. She spotted him a few feet away, head sticking out of a tent. He motioned with his hand.

"C'mon! Before anyone sees us!"

Bewildered, she made her way over to him and squeaked in surprise when he grabbed her arm and quickly dragged her in.

The inside of the tent was pitch black and for a second she thought somehow she had been blinded. "W-why is it so dark?"

"It's the tent where we keep all the dark tomes," said Inigo, his voice coming somewhere on her left.

"Oh." Noire turned to face him. Or his voice. Either one. "Uh, what are we doing in here?"

"Right. About that…" She heard him shuffle a bit. "Look, about this morning… I'm sorry I couldn't give you any good advice and I feel terrible about that," he said, a contrite tone in his voice. "I mean, I talk big but in the end, I'm still just a…a…novice." She heard him pound his fist into something. "Curse that know-it-all!"

His impromptu dash out of the tent had been a bit inglorious, she had to admit. Probably best not to bring it up though. The fleet footed boy was easily flustered. "It's fine, Inigo, don't worry about it."

He scoffed sardonically. "No need to spare my feelings, Noire. I'm a grown man. And as a man, I feel it's only right that I somehow make it up to you. With my ultimate wooing technique!" He paused dramatically and then added, "Besides, I can't let Gerome and Nah of all people beat me."

"Right…" she said uncertainly. What did wooing have to do with anything? All she wanted to do was impress Severa.

Oh. Maybe that's what Inigo and everyone else had meant earlier. Well, it certainly couldn't hurt to listen to him then.

Inigo continued, sounding like he was talking to himself. "I mean, Nah is a romantic at heart, with the flowers and the hearts and all that but Gerome? C'mon!" There was a derisive snort. "He's about a romantic as a log with a heart etched in the side. Stupid frowny brows of his."

"Er, is there a point to all this or…?"

"So prepare yourself Noire!" Inigo continued, somehow managing to grasp her hand dramatically in the darkness. "For I, Inigo, am about to show you my ultimate technique! One that is sure to capture the imagination of whomever it is you wish to impress! I swear it!" He paused and then the next part came out in a rush. "Just don't tell anyone, okay."

"Er? Why? Did you steal something?" A horrible thought struck her and she squeezed his hand. "Oh gods, it's not some sort of potion you stole from my mother is it?! She'll hex us all the way to the Outrealms if you did!"

"What? No! I mean," he coughed awkwardly. "I can get desperate, but not THAT desperate. Besides, nobody's crazy enough to mess with your mother, no offense. Well, maybe Marc and Morgan but that's because they don't know the meaning of self-preservation."

All very true. Noire breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

"So do I have your solemn vow of silence?"

"Uh, sure, I guess. Why all the secrecy?"

He was quiet for a second and when he spoke next, his voice held a hint of mortification. "Well, it's uhm, a bit er… embarrassing, for me, shall we say, what I'm about to show you. That's why you can't tell anyone and I mean ANYONE."

"Oookay?"

"ANYONE."

"Okay!"

"Not even Severa!"

"…Alright."

"You paused."

"No I didn't"

"You're going to tell her, aren't you."

"Only if she asks," she admitted.

"Noire!"

"She's my best friend, Inigo!"

"Well, yes, but…"

"And it is really, really hard to lie to her. She does this thing with her eyes and, you know."

"Gods, I know exactly what you're talking about." She heard him sigh again. "Alright, fine. Just… try to make it so she doesn't ask. I doubt Severa's the one you're doing this all for anyways."

She laughed a bit too high for her own ears. "Hahahah… right."

Thankfully, Inigo didn't seem to notice. "Well, let's get started then." There was a shuffling sound and she heard him move away. "Are you wearing comfortable shoes?"

Noire looked down even though she couldn't see them. "Yes. I think. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Why, my dear Noire, comfortable shoes are paramount…"

Light suddenly flooded the interior of the tent. Noire yelped and looked away, shielding her eyes.

"When learning how to dance!"

She had to blink a few times to get rid of the spots. When they finally cleared, Noire was able to look at Inigo. And what he was wearing.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Whoa, shhhhh! Quiet! The tent's not soundproof!"

"S-sorry!" Noire clamped down on her jaw. "Y-you surprised me! It's just… I thought a rainbow was assaulting my eyes there for a second."

Inigo looked down at his outfit. "Well… I suppose it does glitter a bit much, I'll give you that."

"Is…is that actual glitter?"

"No… Okay, yes, maybe it is. It's important to dress the part, you know!"

"And for your every step to sparkle?"

"Look, do you want to learn how to dance or should I just let myself die of embarrassment right now?"

She considered. As ridiculous as it all seemed, maybe Inigo had a point. A dance between friends could be seen as appreciative, right? Though it seemed an odd way to thank Severa for being her friend for all these years. But then again, if Inigo had done it, then maybe he was onto something. He was being rather earnest.

But did Severa even like dancing? Not to mention the fact that Noire would still have to get over the crippling embarrassment first before she even considered taking a step.

She shook her head vigorously. No, no, that wasn't the attitude to take. If Severa could face down a horde of Risen just to watch her back, then she could attempt one, simple dance for her best friend. It was the very least she could do.

"I'll do it."

Inigo looked up in surprise but he quickly beamed. "That's the spirit!" He clapped an arm around her shoulder. "I guarantee you, after were done, whoever you're dancing for is going to have eyes only for you."

For some reason, she found herself flushing a bit even though she didn't quite know why.

Inigo reached behind and pulled out an object. "First things first. Like I said earlier, you're going to need to dress the part," he said and presented her with a second dress.

Noire glanced at the dress and instantly blanched. "W-w-wha- t-th-that, it's…! BLOOD AND THUNDER! Do you expect me to prance around like some little tart dressed in THAT?!" She pointed an outraged finger at it. "I will not stand for this indignity! PREPRARE YOUR MORTAL FRAME FOR HELL'S OWN FURY!"

Inigo groaned. "I was afraid of that."

"Left, right, left, left and right."

"L-left, right… left, oh! S-sorry!"

"Hngh, i-it's fine! Just… try not to step down so hard. Ow. Ahem. Alright, from the top. Left, right and go!"

"Left, right… whoa… eep!"

"Hurk! Unghhhh….."

"Inigo? Inigo, are you alright? Oh dear. Inigo wake up!"

"No, no, no! Step one, then, step twooo! Like this!"

"I'm trying!"

"Tell that to your two left feet…"

"Either speak clearly or don't, lest you wish to have your blithering tongue separated from your gibbering mouth!"

"Y-yes ma'am!"

"Ahem. Sorry about that. I don't know what came over me."

"I-it's fine. Tooootally fine."

"Thanks for understanding. Okay. So… step one… and step twoooooo…"

"H-hey, watch the lantern-!"

Crash!

"GYAHHHH! Oh gods, NOIRE! Put it out, put it out, put it out!"

"I'm trying! Hold still!"

"Oh Naga, I'm on fire! It burns! It burns! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhwhat are you doing with that tome?!"

"I said, hold still!"

"Noire, no, don't—!"

Whunk!

Whunk! Whunk! Whunk!

…Whunk!

"There! That should do it, Inigo! Inigo? Oh dear…"

"Alright, so, you need to twist your hips like this and… GYOWWWW!"

"IMPUDENCE! Just where do you think you are putting your hand?!"

"I'm correcting your posture! Oh, gods, my hand! Hands are supposed to bend like that! Least of all mine!"

"Pray that it is the only thing I correct, for I swear to Grima that if your hand strays any lower, I will tear if off and force you to eat it raw!"

"Eep!"

"And then afterwards I will feed what's left of your sorry sack to the Risen!"

Gulp. "That's…I think… feeling… faint…Ohhhhh."

"Bwahahahhah! Ha! Hahaha…ha…hah? Um, Inigo? Are you, um, still alive? Oh, dear."

The sky was slowly turning into a rather pretty orange color when Noire dragged her tired feet down and plopped herself by the old cedar on the hill. She and Inigo had parted ways after he had deemed her step to be passable, in his own words. He also looked like he was about ready to drop dead and to be honest, Noire was feeling similarly. Who knew dancing could be so dangerous and violent? She resolved to buy a nice pair of shoes for Inigo and his mother the next time they were in town.

But that was then. Right now, all she wanted to do was close her eyes and take a nice, little nap before heading back down to camp for dinner. And until her feet stopped crying. And her legs regained their feeling.

Yes, a short nap sounded excellent.

She was so caught up in this train of thought that she failed to hear the footsteps until they were right next to her.

"What on earth are you doing here?"

The sound of that voice instantly chased away all of her drowsiness. Noire bolted upright and banged the back of her head against the trunk. "M-mother!"

Her mother simply quirked a brow. Noire blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. "Uh… people watching."

This time her mother's other eye brow rose as well. "People watching," she said slowly without any inflection.

"Uh…yes?"

Her mother looked left and right. Completely isolated, save for the two of them.

"…I see," she said.

Oh, she was in for it now. Mother hated whenever she lied, no matter if it was a big or small one. Back in her future, any sort of fib immediately resulted in a two hour sneezing curse followed by a hiccup hex. Noire steeled herself in anticipation.

Her mother simply nudged her leg with the tip of her foot. "Move."

"P-pardon?"

"Move," he mother said again with another nudge. "Make room."

Noire blinked, bewildered, but nonetheless shifted to the side. Her mother knelt down and took the vacated spot, tucking her legs beneath her.

And that was it. The two of them were completely silent; her mother staring off into space while Noire sneaked glances from the corner of her eyes. Finally, Noire just had to break the silence. "What… are you doing, Mother?"

"People watching," she said flatly.

Probably should have expected that one. "O-okay."

"Wondering which one of these silly fools would like to be my next guinea pig."

"Uhm, I-I don't think that's a very good idea."

Her mother turned to regard her coolly and Noire flinched, sure that she was going to be her mother's next unfortunate test subject.

Instead, all she did was shrug and turn away. "Whatever. Their loss."

Now Noire was completely lost. Her mother never let the chance to test a new hex slip her by. Noire could only remember two instances when that happened. The first was when one hex accidentally made Noire sick enough to make her bedridden for a few days and her mother had stopped everything to take care of her. And the second time…

The second time was when Father passed away.

"Is…is something troubling you, Mother?"

She didn't answer right away, which confirmed Noire's vague suspicions. When she did, she spoke slowly, as if unsure of what to say.

"Your father… said you two had an interesting conversation this morning."

Morning seemed like an eternity ago, with all the chaos that happened today. Noire nodded hesitantly. "I-I guess?"

Her mother hummed flatly underneath her breath before turning to stare at her. And then stare. And stare. And staaaaaaaaaaaare.

It was a little, okay, a lot unnerving how long she could go without blinking and Noire, already feeling uneasy, started to fidget.

The motion did not go unnoticed by her mother and she rolled her eyes. "Twitchier than a rabbit. Come here," she said and beckoned with a finger.

Years of ingrained obedience pushed her to move next to her mother. She grasped her head in both hands and Noire squeezed her eyes shut. Here it comes.

She felt her head being guided down until it hit something... not painful. No. Comfortable? What? She opened her eyes.

Her mother peered down at her disinterestedly. "What?"

Belatedly, she realized that her head was resting in her mother's lap "N-nothing!" she quickly answered.

The answer seemed to satisfy her and she went back to people watching, before adding almost as an afterthought, "Don't get used to this."

"O-of course."

Her mother nodded and without any preamble, began running her fingers through Noire's hair. Noire instantly tensed and her mother must have noticed because she paused and an unreadable expression flitted across her face. But just as quickly as it came, it went and her mother resumed.

The motion was stilted and awkward and just a tiny bit painful because every few passes, her mother's nails would accidentally poke into the tender part of her head. But…

It was comforting, in her mother's odd sort of way.

Maybe this is what father meant by being careful.

She heard her mother sigh through her nose. "I have no idea what I'm doing," she admitted bluntly. "Nowi was doing this earlier with her little imp. She could've been looking for lice for all I know."

"Er, I'm pretty sure I'm lice free."

Her mother shrugged. "Shame. They work well in certain hexes." Her mother continued her brushing and slowly, she found herself relaxing more and more as the motion became smoother.

Things were quiet for a moment more.

Her mother spoke up again. "By the by, I heard from Nowi that you have a… friend-friend," she made a face, as if the word was physically odd. "Whatever that is."

"Nah told her, didn't she?" Noire sighed but found herself to comfortable to get too angry. "I don't really know why everyone is making such a big deal of it."

Her mother looked at her oddly. "Isn't it though? Nowi seemed to imply something more with how she said it."

"Well, I don't think so. I just hope nobody tells Severa."

The gentle brushing paused. "Severa? Henry and Cordelia's daughter?"

"Mhm. That's her." She nestled deeper into her mother's lap and stifled a yawn. "You and father were friends with her parents in the future… my future."

"I see." Another pass and this one was almost soothing in how gentle it was. "Is this Severa the reason you've been running around camp all day?"

"Yep. I'm getting a big surprise ready for her."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

Her mother paused and rephrased her question. "Why… go so far for just a friend?"

Wasn't it obvious? She simply shrugged. "I just want to show her how much she means to me."

Her mother stiffened and the brushing stopped. "Oh…" she said, sounding oddly breathless.

She turned a little to look up at her mother, who was staring off into space, looking faintly shocked. "Mother?"

"That's what Nowi meant… a friend-friend."

"Mother?"

Her mother started and looked back at her, unreadable expression back on her face. "This, Severa girl… what is she like?"

She thought for a moment. "She's… well, the first time we met, she said I looked like death and made me cry."

Her mother's hand spasmed and Noire hissed as her nails scratched the crown of her head.

"Sorry," muttered her mother. "Keep going."

"W-well, she said I looked like death but then later she apologized and made me a cup of hot chocolate and asked me to be her best friend." Noire yawned again. "I guess you could call it a trademark of hers, being prickly and not… prickly at the same time."

"How charming," muttered her mother, not sounding at all charmed. "Let me make this simpler. Does she make you happy?"

What an odd thing to ask "Well…of course," she said, looking up at her mother. "She's my best friend."

Her mother was quiet for so long that she had nearly fallen asleep when her mother uttered her next words.

"Then I suppose that's all I can really ask for."

That was an odd statement, but she was too comfortable to really make the effort to parse it so she made a little humming noise and said, "I suppose so."

Her mother resumed brushing. "You've grown up too quickly," she said without offering any explanation. "Far too quickly."

She hummed again. Maybe her mother was just tired and asking odd questions because of it. Oh! That reminded her… She opened her eyes.

"I wanted to ask you this earlier, since I already asked father this, but how do you express your affection for him, mother?"

Her mother stopped what she was doing and stared back at her with a deadpan expression. "What's it to you?"

"Oh, just wondering."

Her mother snorted, unconvinced. "Well, then, I guess you'll have to keep wondering some more."

"Please?" she pleaded. "I just want to know."

Her mother considered her for a second before sighing exaggeratedly. "Fine. If you must know, there's this spot on his lower back that if I scratch juuusst hard enough he makes this—"

Walked right into that one she did. "O-on second thought, n-never mind."

Her mother glanced at her amusedly. "You asked," she pointed out.

"I-I guess," she said, pouting a little bit. She couldn't help it. She really was curious.

Her mother rolled her eyes. "Oh don't pout. No child of mine is going to act so… childish."

"Sorry."

Her mother glanced at her again and sighed. "Your father and I don't need some sort of silly sign or gesture for each other. Our…feelings," she made a face. "Are real enough."

She craned her head back to look directly at her. "How can you be so sure?"

Her mother regarded her for a long moment before turning away.

"We have you, don't we?"

Noire blinked. Wait… It took a few seconds for her sleepy mind to parse what her mother had just said. Oh. That…oh.

A drowsy smile slowly formed its way onto her face and her mother narrowed her eyes suspiciously when she saw the smile.

"What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing," she said, smiling ever so slightly.

"Tell me or I'll let you sleep on the ground."

She closed her eyes and let her smile widen. That sounded just like the mother she had known her entire life. Just like her…

"It's nice to have you again too, Mother."

Tharja was silent for a moment, expression unreadable in the dying light. Then, she snorted and shook her head in exaggerated ruefulness.

"Alright, moment's over." She shook her daughter. "Get up."

But Noire was already fast asleep.

Fingers crossed for the conclusion next week. That is if real life and college don't kill me first orz.