Blind Devotion

by dnd4evr

While on the run from a haunting past, a half-orc warlock finds himself the chance companion of a blind elf doctor. Despite her quirks, he finds great comfort in her company, and the two make fast friends...even if their enemies are never far behind. All original characters that are HIGHLY INSPIRED by the cast of Critical Role.

8. The Calm Before

Zoe paced angrily outside room three. Four hours. Four long hours of stewing over this new revelation that they were going to save the asshole who, in her mind, was singularly responsible for every fault of her beloved home. Her demeanor had been bad enough that Jayce had pulled her away from the table and talked to her, at length, about the multitude of reasons why a quick fix, especially an assassination, would not work in her favor. As begrudgingly as it was, she had to admit that his arguments made sense, and Jayce had presented a surprising number of hypothetical situations that all proved his point. She even recognized a few of them. Apparently, she wasn't the only fan of historical fiction in their little group.

When the two of them had returned, Dahlia politely asked if they would come to her room in four hours, as she required time to pray and regain her magical power before she could fully heal them. They'd have to wait four irritating hours. Jayce, of course, had no problem with the wait, but the anger in Zoe's heart made her restless. She needed something to burn off the fuel of her rage, something to get her heart pumping. Immediately, she ducked over to the stairs and peeked into the common room, scanning the faces to see if Wolf had stopped by early, but the act of twisting herself to see around the corner aggravated her wound. Hissing a string of swears that would rival Jayce's foul language, Zoe gave up and headed to room ten to check on her brother.

In a moment mixed with frustration and relief, Zoe found Jonathan exactly where she left him; sitting on the floor, a wide bronze pan in front of him, surrounded by smoke and swirls of arcane light that danced along an intricate chalk circle of runes and strange symbols. He had assured her that as soon as she was done speaking with Dahlia, his spell would be complete, but that was still longer of a wait than she wanted to deal with. She knew whatever Jonathan summoned would technically be his familiar, but she missed having a cuddle buddy that would listen to whatever crap she had to say without judgement. She noted with satisfaction that his last familiar, when they were barely teens, seemed to prefer sleeping in her bed than his.

She watched as Jonathan surfaced from the arcane mumbling just enough to move more incense into the pan, as it was nearly through its current stores. She opened her mouth to ask how much longer he'd be, but he was immediately back to chanting, his eyes rolled back as his soul reached into the ethereal planes. She grunted in annoyance, but was pleased to note the pile of incense at his side was nearly depleted. Not long now.

Her footfalls were heavy as she marched her way through the hallway, back to room three. Any minute now. Any goddamn minute. She hated waiting. She hated how she had limited time. She hated how other races had so much more time to see the world, to experience it, and by the time she was fifty, she'd already be on the waning end of her own.

Zoe's stomach twitched painfully, and she gripped it to staunch the ache. Time that was nearly stolen from her. Never again.

"Zoe?"

Zoe turned toward the voice, surprised to see that Dahlia's door was open and the quiet elf was in the doorway. "How'd...you know it was me?" Zoe huffed, wincing through the pain.

Dahlia offered a kind and gentle smile. "All your vocalizations contain the unique timbre of your voice, Zoe. Simply put, your grunts are as distinct as your speech."

"Huh. Never thought of that." Zoe hissed through some pain as she struggled to stand up straight. "Can we get this over with?"

"Of course. Thank you for your patience," Dahlia said as she stepped to the side so Zoe could pass her. "Please dress down to your comfort and lay on the left side bed."

Zoe glanced at the bed, and noted the room was closed off and dark. The shutters had been pulled on the window, and as Dahlia closed the door behind her, the room was plunged into nearly complete darkness, save for what afternoon sunlight peeked through the imperfect window coverings and the candlelight that slipped in under the door.

Of course Dahlia wouldn't need light to work, but that gave Zoe a mischievous idea. By the time Dahlia had pulled over the chair to the bed, Zoe was stretched across the bed, completely unclothed, even down to the removal of the linen band she used to keep her top knot in place.

Zoe let herself sink into the straw mattress and fought to keep a giggle out of her breath as Dahlia's fingertips brushed her hip.

"Sorry, are you ticklish?" Dahlia asked. She shifted her fingers to catch the edge of Zoe's bandage and began to lightly tug at the strips to find the loose end.

"Only when a pretty lady puts me in a good mood," Zoe teased.

"Mhm," Dahlia hummed absentmindedly, having found the edge of the bandage. She began to gently remove it, rather than cut it off, as she could magically clean and reuse it. One less thing to buy at the market.

Zoe was instantly confused. What happened to the playful giggles that usually responded to that line? She lifted her head just enough to barely make out Dahlia's face in the heavily slanted light. Of course, she couldn't see anything about the elf's expression behind that blindfold.

"So… How'm I lookin', doc?" she asked, adopting a goofy drawl. Perhaps there were other ways to break past that impassive exterior and get a reaction.

"Remarkably fit for your size," Dahlia began, her hands working swiftly and deftly. "I noticed this morning that the muscle tone in your leg was quite impressive, and your rectus abdominis was remarkably resilient to the incredible lacerations you obtained during the battle."

"My recta-what?" Zoe said as she barely suppressed a laugh. "Are you talking about my butt?"

Dahlia sputtered a chuckle, and Zoe considered that a win.

"No," Dahlia said, a smile evident in her voice, "I'm talking about your vertical abdominal muscles. These," she added, tracing Zoe's abs from her sternum to the wound in question. "I'm convinced that your physique was directly responsible for your survival."

"Oh. Yay?" Zoe wasn't sure how to take that, but it sounded good.

"You're tough, Zoe," Dahlia giggled. "That's a good thing."

Ha! A laugh! She was making progress! "Thanks, doc. That's really sweet of you," Zoe beamed.

Dahlia picked up the long strip of bandage and loosely wrapped it into a ball, which she tossed onto the other bed. "Anytime. Alright, this may hurt. I'm going to press on your pelvis to determine if your intestines are still in the proper place, and it may aggravate the wound. Please let me know if I'm pressing too hard."

Zoe audibly gulped as Dahlia slowly applied pressure to her pelvis and hips, and grunted through the inevitable pain. As much as she wanted to continue flirting, it was incredibly difficult to think of anything sexy while it felt like she was being repeatedly punched in the gut by the world's gentlest mugger.

"Looks like everything's in order-"

"Oh thank the gods," Zoe whined, her face buried in her hands. "We're done now, right?"

Dahlia moved her hands up to the actual wound and gently searched for the edges of the damaged flesh. "More or less. I'd like to check your knee as well, but as that's already been healed, I suppose it's fine to skip it for now. That aside, I would like to seal the wound."

"Please do!" Zoe gasped. The wound was still quite tender and even Dahlia's gentle touch had aggravated that.

Light slowly permeated the room, and the source was clearly Dahlia's hands as liquid sunlight began to pool in her palms. With a whisper of "Good health to you," she pressed the delicate magic to Zoe's stomach, which left golden sparks in its wake. As Zoe watched in awe, the wound, flooded with light, closed, faded, and disappeared without a trace.

Dahlia traced her fingertips over Zoe's stomach, and smiled as she was unable to find any scar or remaining wound. She shifted into the chair by the bed as Zoe, shocked at how good she now felt, sat up on the bed.

"And you're done," she said with a smile. Zoe was almost disappointed. "Unless you'd like me to check your knee, or any other wounds or bruises you may have sustained that were not brought to my attention."

Zoe saw her chance. "Actually," she purred, twisting to lean seductively toward Dahlia, "I do remember reading nearly the entirety of a special book to you, one about a special healing technique..."

"Yes, Healing Hands: The Lost Arte of the Ancient Masseuse." Dahlia nodded, and was either completely unphased by Zoe's tone or absolutely unaware of it. "What about it?"

"Wouldn't you like to practice? I'm here, I'm willing, and I'm willing to reciprocate," Zoe grinned, playfully biting her lip. "I'm sure I could get you to a point where your heart would be racing from excitement."

"Actually, the art of massage is meant to calm and relax, not exhilarate or stress the body," Dahlia stated flatly. "I'm honestly surprised you didn't notice, since you were the one who read it to me."

"I'm not- What?" Zoe stumbled over her words. Either she was being shot down, or Dahlia was intentionally ignoring her efforts. "No, I'm saying I could stimulate you, Dahlia. And I bet you could do the same to me. We'd both have a good time."

"But I don't need-" And then it clicked. "Oh!" Dahlia's hand flew up to her mouth in shock. "Oh. Um, I don't offer those services. I'm sure there are plenty of professionals in this city who would be more than willing to assist you, but my expertise ends at medical."

The room was smothered in an awkward pause, which Dahlia filled by stepping over to her gear on the other bed and finding the bandage she had tossed over.

"I'm, uh, I'm gonna go," Zoe mumbled, scrambling for her clothes as she slipped off the bed. Her face was flushed in embarrassment and she didn't know if she could ever talk to Dahlia again without reliving her current moment.

The replacement of her clothes was much more clumsy than the removal, and when she grabbed the door handle, Dahlia piped up, "I hope you find exceptional service for your needs!"

Zoe ran to room ten, not even bothering to tie her hair back up into the top knot before she ducked into the room and practically slammed the door behind her. Jonathan, startled out of a rest on the bed, nearly bolted to a sitting position as his sister slumped against the door and slowly slid to the floor.

"Are you okay…?" Jonathan asked hesitantly, unsure if he should approach his sister. Her head was buried in her arms, and he didn't want to risk stepping beyond her boundaries.

"No?" Zoe mumbled into her arms. "I don't think I've been struck out so fast in my life."

Jonathan suppressed a smirk. "I suppose it had to happen eventually. Didn't work with Dahlia?"

"She told me to seek professional help for my 'needs'," Zoe groaned.

"Ouch," Jonathan winced. He had to bite his lip to keep from smiling at the whole thing. "So...think that means I've got a chance?"

Zoe sighed and finally pulled her head out of her arms to look at her brother, fully intending to tell him to give up after her own attempt had been so brutally ignored. Unbeknownst to her, the summoned familiar had taken its place at her feet, looking up at her with beautifully deep blue eyes. She noticed immediately.

Zoe squealed in delight and scooped up the creature, hugging it close to her chest. She was rewarded with the softest, silky white fur brushing against her face, and a little chocolate brown face, with matching paws and tail, nuzzled into her embrace with a calming, audible purr.

Lady Puffpaw had returned.

xXxXx

Jayce was entranced by his book. The desperate bid for power, the scramble against the gods themselves, the triumph of overcoming incredible odds. He knew it was ultimately fictional, but if the rumors about the Matron of Ravens being once human was actually true, her journey to godhood must have been fraught with danger and intrigue.

Of course, the author had thrown in a superfluous love interest. Why must writers constantly ruin their stories with frivolous romances?

Jayce groaned and flipped the page. Yet another multi-paragraph declaration of love. He began skimming the words to find the end of the encounter so he could get back to the good stuff. There was an army of undead hunting down the main character, and there was inexplicably enough time to have a clandestine tryst with her lover.

Written romances never made sense.

"Speaking of time," he mumbled to himself. He bookmarked the page and set down the book before he stretched the stiffness out of his shoulders. Jayce could clearly see the angle of the sunlight had reached a more extreme slant, and was beginning to take a golden hue. Dahlia should be about ready for him by now.

He glanced over to the other bed, where Gauth was sitting. The large man was slowly making his way through the primer, and occasionally would pause to trace the letters on the page with his stick of cinnamon. Jayce had originally offered to help him, but Gauth insisted he would try on his own first. Jayce wondered if it was a ploy to distract himself from his obviously irritated skin.

"How's it goin', Gauth?" Jayce asked with a smile. It had been nice to take some time off and just read for a while.

"I like that this book is meant for adventurers, and not just children," Gauth sighed, letting the book drop to his lap. "It's still...hard to memorize them all, but I think I'm making progress. I can't guess F though."

Jayce motioned to the book. "Show me the page. I'll help."

Gauth turned the book to show a stamp picture of a striking bird. "I know it is a bird of prey, but it is hard to tell which one without an idea of size."

"Falcon." Jayce quoted the page. "F is for Falcon, swiftest of wing. Catcher of mice, but not one to sing."

Gauth chuckled. "I agree with the author."

"Oh?" Jayce's eyebrow piqued along with his interest. "Knew of one?"

"Some of my herd practiced falkejakt. It was the art of raising and training birds of prey for hunting," Gauth said with a nod. The memories of his home were fond ones, and he smiled at the thought. "My brother Birdsong was quite good at it. His birds could find the most elusive of prey."

"Wait, Birdsong?" Jayce had to fight back a laugh. "Your brother's name was Birdsong?"

Gauth shrugged. "We are named by our skills. My name is Ghoul of the Frozen Mountains, but it is said Gauthak Gathakanathi in my tongue. My brother is called Birdsong of the Black Woods, but in my tongue it is said as Fuglesang Svartskog."

Jayce sat up straight, honestly shocked. "That… Wow. Definitely sounds more intimitadin' than Birdsong. Hell, didn't even cross my mind ya got a different language up there."

Gauth smiled. "For a seasoned traveler, I thought the idea that this was my second language would be common sense to you." He then snickered. "I did learn that Ghoul was not a name taken kindly in these lands, and so I just refused to translate it when I introduced myself. I am amused that the name is less uneasy when it's not understood, and yet the meaning has not changed."

"Well, ya ain't gonna catch me makin' that mistake ever again," Jayce chuckled. "Uh, how did...ya get that name, anyway?"

Gauth shrugged, as if the memory was not important. "I was lost on the frozen peaks of the Cliffkeep, and nearly spent three weeks without food. My herd found me after I had consumed what remained of the creatures that had attempted to strike me down, after I had painted a cliff face with their blood. It shone brightly for miles."

Jayce stared at the man in shock. "You're fuckin' kidding me."

Gauth laughed at his friend's expression. "No. It's all true."

"Well, if ya can survive that, learnin' t' read's gonna be a damn cakewalk," Jayce said with a nervous laugh. "Anyway, I figure Dahlia's about ready for us. Ya gonna go first, or should I?"

"I will heal on my own," Gauth grunted, his mood immediately sour. "I must practice my letters."

Jayce decided it would be wise not to press the issue and instead awkwardly rose from his bed. His left leg was still in quite a lot of pain, but only when he moved.

"Suits me fine. See ya in a bit," Jayce said, and he mimed a tip of the hat as he stepped out of the room. Gauth nodded in return, but did not comment.

Jayce limped into the hallway, careful to lean on the wall for support so he did not have to put too much weight on his injured leg. He had to continually remind himself he walked several miles with that injury already, and another twenty or so feet wasn't going to kill him. He still winced as he passed the next room, just in time to hear Zoe squeal with joy through the door.

Curious, he knocked, fully expecting to be ignored. "You two okay?" he called.

The door whipped open, and before he had a chance to blink, a small, furry creature with similarly slitted blue eyes was suddenly shoved in his face, followed by the heavy scent of incense. Jayce recoiled with such force he nearly stumbled onto his bad leg, but he thankfully caught himself.

"She's back! Look! She's back!" Zoe's normally brusque voice reached a ridiculously shrill pitch as she relentlessly held the small creature within an inch of Jayce's nose. "John got our cat back!"

"Zoe! Give him some space!" Jonathan laughed from behind her. He managed to pull Zoe part way back into the room so he could speak to Jayce directly. "Sorry about that; She's pretty excited."

"Fuckin' hell… Yeah, was so damned confused as t' why she was screamin'," Jayce grumbled, the sarcasm dripping from his voice. "So that's… Yer familiar's a cat?"

A beautiful, short-haired chocolate point Siamese cat nestled in Zoe's arms, and it seemed to have a look of mysterious intelligence in its captivating blue eyes. The slightly longer fur on its brown tail looked amazingly soft as it lazily swished back and forth over Zoe's forearm.

Jonathan nodded. "Yes. This is Lady Puffpaw, my familiar since I was a child."

Jayce gave Jonathan a suspicious look. "Puff...paw."

Jonathan gave an awkward laugh as Zoe continued to obliviously snuggle her face into the cat's fur. "I was a young child when I first learned the spell, alright? And true to her name, her paws are amazingly soft," Jonathan quickly added, as he hoped it would help.

Jayce rolled his eyes and moved on, still leaning on the wall when he could afford it. "Enjoy yer cat. I'm off to talk to Dahlia."

"See you around, then," Jonathan called after him.

Jayce couldn't tell if he was angry or jealous. He understood Jonathan had been working to summon a familiar for some time, as initially the incense was strong enough to smell in his room next door, but he had assumed it would be something like a bird or a lizard. All the wizards in the books he had read used birds, and the evil ones inevitably used reptiles, typically snakes. If anyone in the team was supposed to have a cute pet, it was supposed to be him! He was practically the boss, after all, and that name, Puffpaw, was far too close to his chosen name for his eventual blink dog for his comfort.

However, it wasn't as if Jonathan or Zoe had known, and really, how much truth could someone take from fiction books? It might even be fun to have a team mascot, of sorts, even if it was a cat. And he did promise to show Dahlia what a cat was. A familiar should be better behaved than a wild one, and might even sit still long enough for Dahlia to suss out its shape in the way her blindness required.

As he approached room three, the door opened and Dahlia stepped into the hallway. She briefly tilted her head, rather than turn, and a brief smile crossed her face.

"Hello, Jayce," she said brightly. She finally turned toward him. "Do you want help? I was about to head to your room, but at this point I think mine is closer."

"Wasn't sure if you were comin' t' mine or if I was goin' t' yours." Jayce grinned; he had been in a sour mood, but just seeing Dahlia seemed to somehow help alleviate that. He reached out a hand for her. "Won't say no to help, either. Got my hand out for ya."

Dahlia wafted her arm about and, upon finding his, pulled his arm across her shoulders so he could brace against her. Jayce noted she was still wearing her hood, despite being indoors.

As she helped him hop into her room, he couldn't help but ask. "Hey, Dahlia, get a chance t' fix yer hair yet? I noticed ya still got yer hood up."

Dahlia almost winced. How easy it would be to say no, just to stall for another day, but her vow haunted her. "Yes. I'm concerned it didn't come out the way I wanted it, so I'll be seeking an opinion tomorrow, after I pick up my order from Sir Karmeros."

"Right! Damn, that's tomorrow already?"

Dahlia chuckled. "Yes. It's Yulisen. Tomorrow is Da'leysen. The day after is Miresen."

"I know the days of the fuckin' week," Jayce snickered back. Dahlia let him down gently on the left side bed and began pawing through her bag on the ride side one. "Just surprised we've been in town that long already, that's all."

"Our days have been quite full," she said. She pulled over the chair and sat, tapping her hand on Jayce's knee. "Your left, right?"

He couldn't help it. "No, left."

Dahlia's face tilted in confusion. "But I said-" Then her head fell back with what was probably an exaggerated eye roll under the blindfold. "Jayce! Seriously, you're in pain-"

"And laughter helps," he smiled, chuckling under his breath. "But no, really, it's my left."

Dahlia sighed through a smile and traced the seam next to his knee to his ankle. "These seem new."

Jayce watched her with fascination. "What, my pants?"

"Yes. The seem is tighter than when I applied the nacolite- Wait, sorry, that was stupid. Of course it would be tighter now; there was a hole in it when I was neutralizing the acid." Dahlia sat back for a moment and rubbed her eyes through her blindfold. "I'm sorry. I'm a little-"

"Don't apologize," Jayce said softly. He had to catch himself from reaching out for her arm. "Been a long day, and I'm pretty sure half an afternoon in prayer's no easy feat. Hell, I probably couldn't do it for two minutes."

Dahlia let out a more world weary sigh. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little rattled, that's all."

"From what?" he asked. Did something happen while she was praying?

Dahlia leaned forward and began her assessment of Jayce's leg, and despite her gentle attempts to avoid hurting him, her touch was enough to make Jayce suck air through his teeth at the pain. "It's nothing to worry about. I just have to make sure I'm better prepared for our challenges, that's all."

"Havin' that- ow! Naco...stuff was pretty damn prepared, if ya ask me."

Dahlia adopted a subtle, but tired smile. Even in the darkness of the room, Jayce's sensitive vision caught it.

"I will admit, it wasn't the first acid I've worked with. Alright, I won't be able to roll your pant leg past the wound without hurting you, so I'll need you to take off at least your pants. Please dress down to your comfort."

Jayce choked through an awkward cough as Dahlia stood up to confirm the door was closed. She couldn't help but smile at his shyness. "Jayce, it's fine. The door's closed, the window's closed, and I'm blindfolded. Granted, I don't need the blindfold, but even if I wasn't, no one will see you."

"Habit's a habit," Jayce grumbled as he fought with his belt. He knew he should know better by now, but his knee-jerk response was still to go red in the face and panic. He felt ashamed. Dahlia had never meant him harm, and she was a professional. If there was anyone he could trust, it should be her.

Dahlia returned to the bedside. "It would also help if you could lay on your stomach. If that's alright, of course."

"Yeah, it's fine," Jayce mumbled as he folded the pants across his lap. He just had to convince himself this wasn't as awkward as he felt. Besides, once she was done, he'd probably walk out on his own two feet without any problems. That was something to look forward to.

He carefully stretched himself across the bed, being especially hesitant with the wounded leg as he settled down for Dahlia to begin her work. As before, she physically searched for the edges of the wound, drawing back the instant he made any vocalization of pain.

"Oof. I'm surprised you still have your leg, Jayce. If the angle was any shallower, that thing would have gone through bone."

"Ain't sure I'm the kinda sailor destined for a peg leg," Jayce snickered. Despite his joke, he secretly thanked the gods for his continued luck.

Dahlia giggled as she pressed and massaged the muscles closer to his knee. "Well, I can't say I'm fond of the look either. I imagine it would sound rather lopsided."

Jayce almost laughed. Of course that's what she would think of. He was amused at the thought of the alternating clops a peg legged man would make.

Before he could make a comment about being a walking percussion line, he happened to look back and notice Dahlia's hands had begun to glow with that familiar golden light. He watched in awe as the pooling radiance almost dripped from her palms like falling stars, and as soon as she pressed her hands into his calf, all pain disappeared. He stretched and flexed his foot to test her work as she sat back in the chair.

"Truss me up an' toss me off. Still fuckin' amazes me how effective that is." Jayce's voice was soft with awe as he sat up on the bed. "Good as new. Thank you, Dahlia."

"You're...welcome." Dahlia fought a smile as she tried to come up with a way to word her question. "What… What did you mean by 'truss me up' and all that?"

Jayce nearly burst out laughing. "Sorry. Fuckin' habit. My old captain used t' say 'truss me up like a goddamn sow and toss me t' the harpies' when he was caught off guard. Shorter version's less likely t' get me punched 'round here."

"I take it you're talking from experience," Dahlia giggled.

"As usual, nailed it in one," Jayce smiled. "So, we done? I gotta admit, I'm kinda anxious t' get my pants back on."

Dahlia snorted through a laugh and stood up to pack up her supplies. "Yes, Jayce, we're done. Feel free to leave when you're ready."

Jayce threw on his clothes and his foot briefly caught in the left pantleg. The ankle had lost some stretch when he repaired them, but it, thankfully, didn't make too much difference.

"By the way, do you have my tourniquet?"

Jayce cursed under his breath.

"I can get it from you tomorrow," Dahlia said through a quiet laugh. "It's not like you're going anywhere without me."

"No, I'm gonna get it right now. Didn't even cross my damn mind." Jayce stood up and replaced his belt. He'd tuck his shirt in later. "Thanks again for that, by the way. Made walkin' easier."

"Well, Gauth's hands were full, and you're too heavy for me to carry," Dahlia smiled.

"Fair enough," Jayce said brightly. Somehow, the thought of Dahlia carrying him on her back really amused him. "See ya soon."

Dahlia returned the sentiment as Jayce stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind him. She really was a treasure, and he was glad she had chosen to follow him.

He almost called her his treasure. She didn't deserve that.

A clunk caught his attention, and he glanced down the hall. It sounded like the door to his room had closed. Of course, it could have just been a door, not necessarily the one to his room. It was continually getting later in the evening, and the other rooms would be quickly filling up.

If it really was his door, perhaps that meant Al had returned from his errand. Hopefully in one piece. Jayce quickened his step as he headed down the hall.

When Jayce opened the door, he was only mildly surprised to see Jonathan and Zoe had shifted from their room to his, and were obviously mid conversation of showing off their white and brown cat. Al, as the most recent arrival to the conversation, was actually holding the cat as it lightly bumped its forehead against Al's chin, and Al was trying his absolute best not to be swayed by the creature's feline wiles.

Jayce leaned on the doorframe, his arms crossed, and fought back a laugh. "What'd I walk in on?"

"We...apparently have a mascot now," Al said, albeit with strategic pauses to avoid getting cat fur in his mouth as Puffpaw continued to be exceptionally affectionate. One brush of Puffpaw's head made it up to his lips and he sputtered out the fur that stuck to his face. "A very, very clingy mascot."

"Aw, she's just saying hi!" Zoe beamed. "Puffles loves people."

Jayce's jaw went tight. His fingernails started to dig into his arm, but he kept that charming smile. He had to remind himself that there was no way they could know.

"I thought her name was Lady Puffpaw," Gauth cut in, his hand reached around Al's arm to scritch the cat's chin. Puffpaw was obviously loving the attention.

Jonathan and Zoe both shared a giggle. "She's probably got five hundred names," Jonathan explained. "She only really responds to Puffpaw, but she doesn't seem to mind the others."

"So basically, any variation of 'Puffpaw' that we can think of," Al sputtered around Puffpaw's ears. Puffpaw chittered her approval.

"Well, that, and 'asshole' and 'bitch' work occasionally," Zoe snickered. "You have to say it in a squeaky voice though."

Oh, Jayce was so tempted to test that.

"Beyond that, you're looking well," Jonathan said with a smile, turning the conversation toward Jayce. "Back on both feet, I see."

Jayce forced a smile and presented his usual relaxed charm. "Ain't a secret our healer's damn good at her craft. I'm more interested in yer errand, Al. Anything good?"

Al awkwardly shoved the cat toward Gauth, and rubbed his face across the side of his sleeve. "Unfortunately, no. The Margrave refused to see me, and my...perusal of his grounds-"

Gauth cleared his throat.

Al rolled his eyes. "I took a walk around the fucking block and I couldn't see a way in. The whole place is surrounded by a twelve-foot-high fence, most of it vertical iron bars, and the bottom's decorative brickwork. I'm not familiar with how it lines up with the Underwalk or the sewer system, but based on the Shields I saw patrolling, he's probably got those entrances covered."

"So no forcin' him to listen…" Jayce mumbled to himself, and he tapped his knuckle to his chin in thought. "Letter ain't gonna be fast enough…"

Zoe lightly backhanded her brother's arm. "Hey, John, what about that message spell?"

Jonathan briefly thought about it, and then summoned his book into his hands. He flipped to an early page.

"Well, I know I have to get fairly close to the target... " Jonathan's eyes darted around the page as he scanned his notes. "I think the maximum distance is about a hundred feet. It doesn't travel very far through solid materials, such as wood or stone, and it doesn't take much metal to stop the spell entirely. That said-" Jonathan slapped the book shut and took on a smirk. "The spell doesn't have to travel in a straight line. If we can see him through an open window, that should be enough, even if he ducks behind a corner."

Zoe snickered as Puffpaw jumped into her lap and settled down to be petted. "Yeah, that's usually why I'm hanging out a window when John calls me. Hells, I'm pretty sure that's how I was when Dahlia met me."

Al snorted through a laugh. "You were hanging out a window when you met her?"

Zoe gave a nonchalant shrug. "Wasn't the first time. Won't be the last."

"Where is Dahlia, anyway?" Jonathan asked as he looked around the room. His hand ducked into his coat and the book in his arm disappeared, just in time for Puffpaw to switch laps. He almost rolled his eyes at the deeply purring cat, but he couldn't stay mad at her. He was still elated that she was back.

"Still in 'er room." Jayce stepped into the room and picked up the leather strap from where it rested on the headboard. "Probably cleanin' up her tools or somethin'. I'm headin' that way now, so I'll grab her. Y'all start workin' on a plan to save the Margrave and we'll jump in when we get back."

Jonathan nearly jumped up from his seat, but was thoroughly discouraged from the idea when Puffpaw deployed her claws to avoid being flung from his lap. He still looked no less eager when he turned to Jayce.

"I can get her," Jonathan smiled. "I've been meaning to talk to her anyway, and she still has to meet Puffpaw."

"Ah, Lady Puffpaw," Zoe teased. "She's nobility, remember?"

Jonathan visibly rolled his eyes this time. "That was just some stupid story we made up when we were kids!"

Jayce had already left the room. He wrung the leather strap through his fingers over and over as he fought to remind himself that, despite whatever he felt, they didn't know him. They had no reason to usurp his daydreams. And then Jonathan was always trying to muscle in on Dahlia! Why did he always insist he would have to talk to her alone? Who did he think he was, that he could just waltz in and take Dahlia away like that?

Jayce came to a hard stop in the hallway and forced himself to breathe. His temper would do no one any favors here, least of all him. The last thing he needed would be his team to start treating him like the monster that sired him. Whoever that was.

With a final calming breath, Jayce willed himself forward. A few steps left to Dahlia's room, and then he would see her. She always seemed to bring a smile to his face.

His fist came to a halt just in front of her door. A sound caught his ear. Concerned, he leaned his ear against the door and tried to make sense of what he was hearing. He could make out shuddering, a hiccup of breath… Dahlia was crying.

Confusion and concern gripped him in equal measures as he wrenched at the doorknob, and then knocked with barely any restraint when he learned the door was locked. Dahlia screamed for him to go away before her voice was once again strangled through her sobs.

He thought he left her in a good mood! What happened?

"Dahlia, you gotta tell me what's wrong!" He once again pulled at the doorknob, but it still held fast. Should he get Al to pick the lock? Gauth to knock down the door? Should he try himself? Al's comment about her attacks being a "daily thing" flashed across his mind.

He struggled to hear Dahlia's shuddering voice through the door. "I wasted it! All of it! I shouldn't have gotten something for myself! We could have used it for anything else! I'm so sorry!"

Jayce was shocked. She was still hung up on that? Didn't he talk to her about it?

"Dahlia, please open the-"

"No! I'll leave! I'll pack my stuff and go! You can take the ring and sell it back! You can get your money back!"

Ring? She was getting a ring? Just a ring? But then again, it was a magic shop, and Jayce knew it wasn't uncommon for enchanted items to be jewelry. Whatever it was, even the most stingy of women liked to feel pretty.

Jayce leaned on the door, with the hope it would help project his voice into the room but he was still tense as a coiled spring. "Absolutely not, Dahlia. That gold was yours to do with as you saw fit, and yes, you damn well deserve it! I would'a lost my leg today, if not for you! Zoe would have died, if not for you! Your demon's the one talkin', Dahlia. Listen to me, not that thing. You deserve somethin' you want!"

Her voice took a soft turn, and he struggled to make out her words through the door. Was she apologizing again?

"Pelor, if you're fuckin' listening, make that damn thing real so I can punch its goddamn lights out," Jayce hissed under his breath. He patted his chest, but, of course, he wasn't wearing his coat, and that had the pocket with the cinnamon. If he could just get inside, he hoped he could help her, even without the cinnamon, but how could he get past a locked door?

It was all he had left. Time to turn on the charm.

"Dahlia, listen to my voice," he said softly, intentionally dampening his accent to enunciate more clearly. "You have to open the door. If you truly want to leave, I won't stop you, but you need all your things. I still have your...strap. I can't remember what you called it."

"Tourniquet…" came the weak reply.

"Yes, exactly. You'll need it on the road. Please open the door so I can give it to you."

Jayce felt his shoulders nearly reach his ears as he stayed tense, the tourniquet twisting through his fingers as he continued to fidget during the quiet pause.

"You could...also slide it under the door…"

Jayce dropped his head so it lightly tapped against the doorframe. Of course that was an option. He begged his mind to come up with some idea quickly, before she could fall further into whatever darkness her demon had cooked up for her.

The cat!

"Yes, but how could I introduce you to Puffpaw through the door?" Jayce said with a playful smile. "If you open it, I'll take you to meet John's cat."

"Where…?" Her voice was closer to the door. He was wearing her down! "Where did John get a cat?"

Jayce leaned a little harder on the door, as if his voice could physically bypass the wooden barrier if he could close the distance. "He summoned it, just a quarter hour ago. I met it when I came to see you. His familiar."

"It's...real?"

Jayce nodded out of habit. "Yes. It's soft, and loves to be held. It-" Should he claim it was coming down the hallway to tempt her outside, or stick to the truth? He had heard Puffpaw chatter enough to decently mimic it, and he knew she was curious by nature, but the thought felt like a physical needle that had been jabbed into his skull. No, he promised he would be truthful to her. He shouldn't lie. He couldn't betray her like that, when she was so vulnerable. "It's currently in my room, with the others. They're waiting for us. They asked for you, Dahlia. Open the door, and we'll go meet Puffpaw and the others. Please."

The doorknob lightly rattled as her hand came to rest on the inside half. "I...do need to check if Gauth is okay. I'll...come out."

Jayce scrambled backward and almost immediately tried to tuck in his tunic, only to realize that Dahlia was blind and didn't care. However, it dawned on him that he probably looked like some lovesick fool, barefoot and disheveled while begging through some woman's door. He tucked his tunic in anyway and fought to keep his face from going hot with embarrassment.

Dahlia finally opened the door and stepped into the hallway. She was just as disheveled as before, but her oversized coat made her look even smaller with the way she held herself. Her face was tilted downward in defeat, her arm was gripping her elbow, her heels were together. Her blindfold was dark across its bottom half from her tears. She looked as if she was expecting harsh discipline from some imagined slight, and Jayce felt his heart break for her.

Jayce intentionally ignored her demeanor and cordially held out his arm. "Go on an' take my arm, Dahlia. I'll take care of the walkin', and you can just enjoy the trip."

"It's-It's not like it's far," Dahlia said through a sniffle, but also a slight smile as she reached for him. "But...thank you. I'm...tired."

"Ain't a problem," Jayce smiled as he patted her hand. "Just wait until ya meet Puffpaw. Damn thing's practically an attention whore, the way it-"

Dahlia winced and turned her head away at the insulting moniker. Jayce made a mental note to avoid that word for the rest of his life and awkwardly began to walk her back to his room. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"I mean t' say, it's damn hard t' get that thing off yer lap after you start pettin' it," Jayce quickly added with a smile. "Loves attention. Poor Al was practically eatin' fur."

Dahlia pitched forward as she sputtered through a laugh. "Was he trying to?" she wheezed.

"You'll see what I mean," Jayce chuckled, and he pushed open the door to room eleven. "We're back! How goes the plannin' session?"

Puffpaw immediately perked up from Gauth's lap with a rolling chirrup of curiosity, and upon seeing a new target of potential affection, jumped down to the floor and rubbed her body against Dahlia's shin. Dahlia immediately went tense.

"It's making progress," Jonathan said gravely, but with a smile as he watched Puffpaw. "If the Margrave is going to the World Market auction tomorrow, the best chance to hit him with the information would be in transit. Even if he was going by coach, the spell would still reach him."

"Unless it's warded against magical harassment," Zoe huffed.

"What is against my leg?" Dahlia said stiffly. Everyone in the room suppressed a giggle as Puffpaw chattered and stretched her front legs almost up to Dahlia's hip in a bid to be picked up. Dahlia, in response, seemed to get somehow more tense as Jayce ducked down to scoop the cat into his arms.

"This little furball is Lady Puffpaw," Jayce said with a smile. He held the cat to his chest and made sure to support the paws under his hands. He didn't know if this cat was as surly as the one he knew from his sailing days, but he wasn't going to take the chance. "Go ahead. I'm holdin' her."

"Uh, I can do that," Jonathan cut in. "She is my cat, after all."

"Yeah, and I'm already standin' right here," Jayce shot back. He did remember to add a teasing tone, but only barely just in time for it to be noticed.

Those assembled went quiet as Dahlia gingerly tapped at Puffpaw's face, to which the cat responded by trying to struggle out of Jayce's hands and reach for Dahlia as she explored the strange dimensions of the feline creature. Just as she began to truly understand Puffpaw's features, Puffpaw twisted mightily out of Jayce's hands and lunged at Dahlia, startling all present.

There was a pregnant pause as Dahlia, frozen in place, numbly hugged the cat which had managed to wrap both front paws around her neck. Puffpaw's purr could be heard clear across the room.

Jayce's fists were tight with worry as he struggled to decide if he should take the cat or just let whatever was going on happen without interruption.

Dahlia turned toward the group, with Puffpaw still settled in her arms like a small child. Her face was barely readable under the blindfold, and everyone waited with baited breath.

"I think I'm a cat person," Dahlia said as she hugged Puffpaw a little tighter. Her voice quivered with restrained emotion, and Puffpaw seemed to pick up on that immediately. The cat nuzzled her face into Dahlia's chin, even after Dahlia flinched away, and just kept purring.

"Score!" Zoe whispered to Jonathan, accentuated with a slightly too harsh play punch to his ribs. Jonathan responded with a weak and awkward smile.

"Okay, now that we've physically thrown a live animal at our healer-" Al grumbled.

"She jumped, okay?!" Jayce rubbed the frustration off his face. "I didn't mean-"

"That aside!" Al huffed with enough force to stop Jayce's comment in its tracks. "We still need to figure out if we're actually saving the Margrave."

"I thought that was decided," Jayce said, obviously annoyed.

Zoe crossed her arms and growled. "I'm still against it. I think having him out of office by any means is perfectly fine."

Gauth sat forward, and surprised them all when he spoke. "My herd rules by strength, and it is not uncommon for the strong to be cut down as they grow old or lazy, but this is not the way. The men who want to kill the Margrave are cheaters, and they make rules seem useless. Even my life in the Cliffkeep had rules, and we survive because of them."

"And allowing the Margrave to live will give us time to find any organized rebellion, if there is one, and find a replacement," Jonathan added. "Someone who isn't a paid puppet of the Clasp or some born-and-bred simulacra."

"Sim-el… What?" Gauth massaged his forehead. Why did people love big words? It was almost as if speaking plainly in the first place would literally give them pains.

"A flesh golem, made to be a copy of an original person," Dahlia said, still holding Puffpaw to her chest. She shifted slightly to the side to lean against the wall and Puffpaw, again, bumped her forehead to Dahlia's chin with a contented purr. Dahlia's heart melted and she silently enjoyed a physical touch that didn't make her skin crawl.

"Then we're already decided, despite any comments to the contrary," Jayce said with a nod. "So we plannin' on hittin' him on the way, right?"

Jonathan shook his head. "It was presented as an option. If we appeal to him while he is traveling to the World Market, he will have little time to put up any safeguards, if he even believes us. That said, convincing him through magic has its own drawbacks. The Message spell is a very short conversation; one comment, one reply. I can cast it as many times as necessary, but that makes an awkward appeal, which wouldn't stand in our favor."

Jayce turned to Al. "And you tried knockin'?"

Al sighed heavily and leaned back on the bed, resting his weight on his palms. "They told me his next available appointment was next month."

There was a general groan of disappointment among them all.

"We could always crash the party at the World Market ourselves."

Everyone turned toward Jayce, and most of them looked at him as if he had two heads.

"How would you even pull that off?" John asked incredulously. "The World Market has their own security, practically a private army, and employs magical wards to protect their rarer goods. Only the elite of Westruun even frequent the auctions, and we literally look like we were dragged through the streets. Especially myself."

Jayce gave them a smirk and stood up straight, cracking his knuckles as if he was about to perform some grand act of magic. "You need a noble? You've got one."

Jayce tapped a hand to his chest and instantly took the visage of a noble-born human man, dressed in dark silk robes indicative of a magical position in politics. An intricate belt and matching collar made of gold accented the deep, nearly black green fabric of the flowing garment.

"Damn…!" Zoe whistled. "That's...practically perfect! But you don't sound like a noble. You sound like a rough-and-tumble sailor."

At this point, Al, Gauth, and Dahlia all began to chuckle under their breath, to the confusion of the siblings. To their amazement, an entirely alien voice, silky smooth and deep, emanated from the strange facsimile of some imagined noble.

"Oh? I sound like some uncouth lout from the docks? I refuse to entertain such a notion, madam. Perhaps it is your ears that need assessment, as my enunciation is just fine."

"And Dahlia, yes, their jaws are on the floor," Al laughed.

Dahlia giggled as the siblings fought to recover from the shock. "I may have figured. So now you know that Jayce can mimic voices as well as looks. The former being more apparent to me than the latter, of course."

"Gods damn, any bard alive would kill to have your talents!" Zoe muttered with awe. "But that means shit if we can't get you into the World Market. Even if you somehow got, or afforded, a ticket, you'd be going in alone."

"Not necessarily," Al cut in. "If he makes enough of a show, I could probably sneak around their security, and it's not uncommon for wizards and other noble born types to have protectors or bodyguards, right, John?"

Jonathan nodded, although it was clear to those with vision that it was with embarrassment. "Yes. My father would often employ a bodyguard when he travelled for work."

"Great!" Al beamed. "Then Gauth can walk along. That's three. Just you three left."

"Wait a fucking second. We're committing to this? When did that happen?" Zoe said with a sense of urgency. She almost bounded out of her seat. "We're just waltzing into the World Market? Then what? What's the plan?"

Jayce dropped the spell to make it more comfortable to look Zoe in the eye. "There ain't much of a plan. We get in, we get close, we stop anyone suspicious from gettin' close to the Margrave. We've got less than half a day to pull this off, so that's the best we can do. And whatever happens, I think we'll all agree Dahlia's gotta make it in with me."

"What?! Why?!" Dahlia recoiled from Jayce, and Puffpaw lightly squealed from the sudden squeeze to Dahlia's chest. "I'm no good at this...subterfuge work! I won't tell a lie! I can't! If we get caught, I'll have to answer any question honestly!"

"Why?" Jonathan asked, his head tilted in confusion. "Is that part of your curse?"

Dahlia went tense, and her grip around Puffpaw increased to the point where even the cat was no longer interested in the continued attention and began to try to escape. Jayce took the initiative and spoke for her.

"Almost," he said as he turned to Jonathan. "She's gotta be honest to keep herself safe. If she ain't feelin' right, and we ask her about it, bein' honest's the only thing between her and us stoppin' those attacks before they start. She's got a vow about it, but that don't mean she can't tell ya t' fuck off if you cross a line. Got it?"

"Wow," Zoe whistled. "Talk about commitment."

"But why do I have to go?" Dahlia whined. The fear was evident in her voice and Puffpaw changed her mind about escaping Dahlia's grip.

Jayce turned to her and spoke softly. "Because, if anythin' did happen to the Margrave, you're his best chance of makin' it out alive."

The other members of the team all gave quiet agreements, despite Zoe's apprehension at the whole idea.

"But- We- I mean-" Dahlia winced and squeezed Puffpaw again, but this time the cat did not complain. "How-How would I even get in? I have no disguise and even if I had a spell like yours, I'd have no idea if I looked appropriate or ridiculous!"

"Actually, I have an idea," Jonathan smiled. "Al, if she borrowed your cloak, she's already shockingly pale; provided she remains completely under the cloak, with the hood up and the blindfold on, she could pass as a Divination expert."

"Which would lend credence to my request to see the Margrave," Jayce added. The excitement was already creeping into his voice. "Al, you good with that?"

Al briefly sucked on his lip while he thought about it. "That...yeah, should be fine. The cloak won't help me much indoors anyway. Going to be damn chilly on the way."

"Unless Dahlia's okay with letting you borrow her coat-"

"No!"

Once again, everyone faced Dahlia after her outburst, as she was shaking and clearly terrified of something. Nothing but sheer habit prevented her from hiding her face in Puffpaw's fur, but she still turned away from them all.

Al rolled his eyes. "If this is an issue about covering up, you'll be under my cloak the whole time."

"I-I know that, I just…" Dahlia stammered, and it was clear to Jayce that she was physically shivering, even though the room was pleasantly warm. "I just can't hand over the coat now. Tomorrow, whenever we do this...should be the afternoon, right? I can hand it over then."

Jonathan shook his head. "It's just as likely that the auction is in the morning. We need more information."

"Which sounds suspiciously like I'm making another trip," Al groaned. He dropped his head into his hands.

"I got this one." Zoe smirked mischievously as those gathered turned to her, but she still gave a nonchalant shrug. She only managed to make herself look more suspicious. "The Cobalt Soul has connections at the World Market, for identifying artifacts and stuff. I can say I'm whatever artificer's assistant and I wanted to confirm the auction times tomorrow. Simple."

There was an awkward pause as everyone met eyes with Zoe.

"Zoe, sorry, but I'm blind and even I can tell you're acting suspicious," Dahlia said softly, when the pause became too unbearable to sit through any longer.

Zoe rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm committed now. I hate the guy's guts, but it's no secret it's a bad idea to off the asshole without a backup plan. And seriously, for anyone else, it would be odd to walk up to the World Market and go 'hi! Just wanna know what time you're planning having the auction!' You'll look like weirdos! At least I have an excuse! Well, a credible one."

Jonathan sighed. "Zoe, I know you. What are you planning to do?"

"Oh my fucking gods! I'm just going to ask what time the auctions are!" Zoe bounced up from her seat and stood at the end of the room, her arms crossed and her stance aggressive. "Why is this such a big deal?! Don't you trust me to-"

"No," Jonathan cut in flatly.

"Wow. John, I'm your sister," Zoe grimaced, clearly hurt.

"Yes, and I'm your brother. I know you. You have a really bad habit of acting on impulse, and damn it all, we do not need that right now." Jonathan took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. His head was beginning to throb. "We need to be level-headed about this, and I know you won't be, if given even half a chance."

"Well fuck you too!" Zoe spat, and marched for the door. Jonathan snapped out his arm and spat an arcane phrase of his own, and a spectral hand, made of purple wisps of smoke, shot out of his palm and slammed the door closed with force.

Jayce and Dahlia, who had been standing closest to the door, jumped from the sudden noise.

Zoe whirled on her brother, who was matching her glare with a fierce intensity of his own. "You are not leaving, Zoe. Best case, you get hurt. Worst case, you die. I cannot and will not risk either right now."

Zoe sputtered a malicious laugh. "And what, your piddly magic is going to stop me? I bet that little hand trick was the best you can do right now!"

"Enough!"

Gauth grabbed for the back of Zoe's tunic, but she jumped at his touch and easily ducked out of the way. She scrambled into a balanced stance, her hands up and ready for a fight when Gauth attempted to smack her across the face. Again, her nimbleness worked to her favor, and she easily slipped past his strike, but his attack had the desired effect; she had been pushed up against the far wall and if she truly wished to escape, she would have to either snake her way through every member of the team or fight with the closed window.

"What the fuck?!" Zoe barked, and her panicked look made it obvious she felt cornered. Jonathan had also jumped to his feet, but Jayce's hand on his shoulder made it clear he was supposed to sit down.

"How can your brother mean so little to you?!" Gauth roared at her, his face mere inches from her own despite the difference in height. "He vouched for you, carried you, and fought for you, and all you have done is insult him! Today, he nearly watched you die! He is your family, and you treat that like shit on your boot! Du burde drukne av din skam!"

The room fell into a heavy silence. Gauth stood back up to his full height, his head uncomfortably close to the ceiling beams, and cracked his neck in obvious discomfort over his involvement. He turned and left the room, pressing his fingers into his shoulder as he rolled it for his own form of fidgeting. The door opened and closed as Zoe began to choke back her own tears. Despite Gauth's seemingly forced anger, his words had struck a chord with her, but Zoe would be damned to all nine hells before she gave them the satisfaction of knowing that.

"Oh...kay, then." Jayce blew out a puff of relief. "I'd say it's pretty damn obvious we all need sleep. I'll check in with Gauth and see y'all in the mornin', yeah?"

There was a muttered agreement, and the siblings shuffled off to their room next door. Both were still quite hurt by the other's comments, and so did not speak. Dahlia allowed Puffpaw to jump from her arms, mostly because she believed the siblings could benefit from their cat's particular form of comfort, and the familiar quickly dashed after her master.

Once back in their room, Zoe collapsed across the left side bed, without a single care that her shoes were nearly on top of her pillow. Jonathan was much more careful about sitting on his bed, and hesitated before speaking long enough for Puffpaw to jump into his lap and paw at his hand. Despite the years since he was last able to pet his familiar, the habit was still strong, and he began to unconsciously stroke Puffpaw's fur as he watched his sister.

"Are you-?"

"Don't talk to me."

Jonathan swallowed his trepidation and turned to his familiar, who had tucked her paws under the fluff of her chest and wrapped her tail around her body in a position Zoe once affectionately called "kitty loaf". Puffpaw's eyes were closed in contented bliss and her purr was rumbling and deep.

Jonathan tilted his head in confusion. Puffpaw's normally dark brown face was streaked with white, with some similar white smudges across one of her ears. He gently cupped the cat's face in his hand and tried to brush the strange substance away, but it was tenacious and he only managed to streak it through her fur.

"What in the world did you get into?" he mumbled, and he gave removing the strange stripes another try. Puffpaw grumbled in discomfort, but didn't fight his efforts.

"I said-!" Zoe snapped, and pushed herself up enough to no longer talk through her bedding and actually face her brother. She immediately realized he was talking to the cat, but then she also spied the white streaks on Puffpaw's face.

"Huh? What happened to Puffpaw?" she asked. While the slights against her were not forgotten, they were briefly put aside for their mutual pet.

Completely distracted, Jonathan replied to his sister as if there was no animosity between them. "I...don't know. She's got this...white stuff on her fur. It smells like oil, or some sort of cooking grease."

Zoe looked confused. "What the hell? When did she get into any oil?"

Jonathan wracked his memories for any sort of answer, but he was still exhausted from the recent argument, and the pounding in his skull was refusing to back down. He sighed and looked at his sister.

"I don't know, Zoe. We'll have to keep an eye out. Something about this bugs me, but I can't tell you exactly what. I need more information."

Zoe rubbed her face and leaned on her knees. "Maybe Jayce was right. We just need sleep. We'll figure this out in the morning."

With a nod, they both settled in, and Puffpaw hopped across the room to curl up against Zoe's stomach. Zoe smiled to herself as she pet the fey cat; it was a small but welcome blessing that some things never changed.

xXxXx

Dahlia had barely slept. Today was the day. So many things would happen today, and many of them terrified her.

First things first; she needed to get that ring. If she was going to be handing over her coat, she knew her armor and blouse wouldn't cover enough of her torso to easily hide herself if she had to fight or move quickly. It would be too much of a risk. She needed the glamor more than ever, especially since she had been making mistakes. Jayce had already noticed the paint once, and despite his attempt to diffuse the situation, she knew he was smarter than that; he would follow up on the clues and eventually figure out who she really was. She needed to delay that as long as possible, until she had a solid backup plan, and then remove herself from the situation before he really became the fourth.

Speaking of Jayce, did she dare wake him? Having an escort through the city would make retrieving the ring easier, but there was always the risk of more questions. Besides, she did remember the way, and it was more or less a straight shot. Just one right turn, of course. But then there were the edges, and everything that lurked beyond them. There was always the threat of attack, even in a city, especially if she was unintentionally exposed. She checked her coat and gloves one more time as she paced the room, just to make sure all pieces were in place.

Her ears perked as she heard footsteps approaching her end of the hall. Who was up? She didn't recognise the timbre of it. The sun wouldn't rise for another hour, and despite the shorter days of autumn, that was still too early in the morning for most. Then again, she was probably jumping to conclusions. She wasn't the only one in the inn, of course; the two men in room four who had a loud argument over a beer tab was easy enough to hear through the wall, and it was plentiful proof. It's possible whoever was passing was heading to work, or for some other early morning excuse.

Then there was a knock on her door.

She froze for half a heartbeat and then tugged at her blindfold and hood to make sure both were in place. With a deep breath to steady herself, she turned to the door and called out, "Who is it?"

"It's…"

She recognized Jayce's voice and breathed a sigh of relief, despite his hesitation.

"It's Jayce, ma'am. Did...I wake you? I know it ain't sunrise yet, but… Fuck it. I was headin' out for a walk an' wondered if you'd join me."

He sounded tired, and anxious. She stepped toward the door, but her hand paused before opening it. Was something wrong? Did something happen after he left to talk to Gauth? She opened the door and put on a smile, despite not feeling jovial or calm.

"I was actually thinking of heading out to pick up my order, so would it be alright if we head out that way? I remember the directions if you need them."

"Of course you do." Jayce laughed to himself. He sounded exhausted. "I ain't against headin' that way. Gotta admit, I'm mighty curious what you got-"

She winced. She knew he'd have questions.

"-but I ain't gonna pry. Although, if it's gonna make that demon of yours solid and separate from you, I wanna be first in line to punch it."

Dahlia hid a giggle in her fist as she tried to recover from the shock of the statement. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she was flattered. "Um, thank you. I'd...actually like to punch it, too. It...I know I can be difficult, and I'm sorry." She almost panicked as an afterthought popped into her mind. "But that's not what I ordered, so please don't get your hopes up!"

Jayce let out a soft chuckle and tapped her elbow. Almost like magic, her understanding of his position became clear in her mind. The way he leaned toward her, the tilt of his head, and, confusingly, his smile. For some time now, she had been clinging to some dreamt up image of his smile to fight away the darkness that prevented her from sleeping, but she only became aware of her new habit in the past few nights. She imagined it was kind, and soft, like his voice when he was talking only to her, especially when he was calling her back from that black fog in her mind. She wondered what it really looked like, and she brushed her thumb over her fingertips. With the ring, she could take off her gloves and "see" for herself...but should she?

"Looks like yer dressed and ready, so feel free t' take my arm at any time."

Dahlia nodded, stepped out of the doorway, and locked her room. After slipping the key into her medicine bag, she fanned out her hand and easily found Jayce's arm. The connection established, Jayce led her down the hall and, at the landing, paused for Dahlia to find the edge of the stairs. She couldn't help but smile to herself. She had been up and down those stairs six times now, so there was really no need to determine the depth of the steps, but she humored him anyway to encourage the behavior.

The common room of the tavern was quiet, with a gentle, sleepy murmur of the very few who were awake to greet the day. Dahlia barely heard the fringe of a conversation between the innkeeper and her husband, but they were muffled and distorted. She wondered if they were in the kitchen, going over the day's menu, or guests of note before they officially switched shifts. Someone by the door yawned as they passed, and Dahlia had to stifle one of her own, despite not feeling tired from her anxiety and excitement. On top of that, Dahlia noticed Jayce's boots had gone from a cluk sound to a clak sound, which was much more pronounced on the sidewalk outside the Riversong.

"Oh! That's why," she mused to herself.

Jayce's torso twisted slightly, and she knew he had turned toward her as they walked. "Eh? What's why?"

"You're wearing new boots," Dahlia said, and a smile began to creep across her lips. She knew he was going to be confused.

Even though she was holding his elbow, she could feel how his head turned and twisted in confusion, likely as he was looking up and down the street, as any movement of the head was easily telegraphed through subtle movements through the limbs of the body. She continued to smile.

"Uh, yeah. I bought them yesterday. Kinda had a damn big hole in the last pair. What's that got to do with anything?"

Dahlia fought hard to keep herself from smiling too much and quickened her pace to walk next to him, instead of slightly behind. "When you walked up to my room this morning, I didn't recognise your footsteps. It's because your boots have harder soles than your last pair; I'd guess wood, instead of...cork? I'd bet your last boots were soled with cork."

Another pause, and she could tell he was looking right at her. She couldn't help but giggle as she imagined the surprise on his face, although her imagination was somewhat exaggerated. Most real people wouldn't be able to raise their eyebrows to their hairline.

"You could tell all that just from listenin' to me walk?"

Dahlia hid her smile behind her fist and cleared her throat to avoid laughing. "Well? Was I right?"

Jayce's shoulders slumped in defeat. "I have no fuckin' clue."

"I'll just pretend I'm right," Dahlia beamed. The morning air was brisk and chilly, almost sharp, but still. Her footsteps echoed ever so lightly across the nearly empty streets of Westruun, just before dawn, ever clearer in the quiet morning. She stuck out her tongue and barely tasted the moisture in the air; there must have been a frost last night.

She leaned slightly into Jayce's arm as they walked. "Jayce?"

His pace didn't slow. "Mhm?"

"Can you…?" No. A soon as the thought began to leave her lips, she knew it was dumb. She already asked him once, and that memory was cherished enough. She didn't need any more. She did want more, but she couldn't be greedy. She didn't deserve anything-

"Can I what?"

His words crashed into her mind and interrupted the thought. It fought for attention, and she winced as she desperately fought back to ignore it. They were walking for a while anyway, so it would fill the time! But what if he didn't want to?

Dahlia shook her head to clear the thought from her mind. She didn't want to impose on him. "Nevermind. Did it frost last night?"

"Yeah." Jayce's voice took on a smile as it became vaguely softer, as if he was looking around instead of facing her. "Those iron lamps they've got, they're glitterin' like soul fire with all that ice on the glass."

Dahlia tried to imagine soul fire, but she couldn't come up with an image. "What's soul fire?"

It harkened back to Jayce's sailing days, and he regaled her with stories of lightning striking the very top of the masts of the Wraith Heart, causing them to glow white hot and crackle with light and sparks. The older men called it "soul fire", the power of kindred spirits offering light and hope to their living kin out at sea. To Jayce, the first time he saw it, soul fire looked like stars had come from the heavens and planted themselves at the tops of the masts, glittering and flashing with incredible power.

"Cookie, the one obsessed with poetry, started callin' praises to the Storm Lord right then an' there. Turned out he was an old hand at it, used to call on the god durin' storms back home." Jayce let out a soft sigh, and then shivered. He tucked his hands under his arms, unintentionally brushing her fingers with his own, but if he had noticed, he made no mention of it.

"Winter's gonna be a fuckin' frosty bitch if I can see my breath this early in the fuckin' season…" he grumbled. Dahlia had to roll her eyes. At first, his language had seemed crass and rude, but she was beginning to understand it was almost like a dialect of his own. It was not that he meant offense, it was just the way he talked. Perhaps he really had meant it when he talked about picking up habits from his sailing days.

"So," Dahlia trailed her words a bit, trying to lead the conversation to what she wanted, rather than flat out ask for it, "if the lamps look like 'soul fire' with the frost on the glass, does anything else look different with the morning frost?"

Again, Jayce's arm twisted slightly as he looked around them. "Well, there's a folded sign that's pretty much unreadable right now. The street practically shimmers under the lamp light, and ya can see hoofprints from a horse-drawn cart that recently passed by…"

And he began, slowly, describing the world around her. His descriptions of the waking streets of Westruun were lightly brushed with the sounds of morning conversations, shopkeeps and transient sellers swapping morning greetings as they set up their storefronts or stalls. One man they passed called a genial good morning to them both, and Jayce explained the man was crushing apples that had frozen overnight. When asked why, Jayce brought her over and asked himself, and it turned out the man was juicing the apples, as a frozen apple yielded a clearer, crisper juice than those that were untouched by frost or winter before they were crushed.

Intrigued, Jayce bought a small bottle of the "frost cider", and, as they walked away, handed it to Dahlia after briefly swearing at the cork. Dahlia had felt the upper arm of his coat go taut, so she knew it had been difficult to open, even if Jayce was insistent on playing it off.

"Is it really okay if I taste this?" she asked, as she held the bottle in front of her. "I don't know a lot of people who like to share drinks."

Jayce let out a short, but bright, laugh. "It ain't a problem, Dahlia. Hells, if ya get me sick, I know who to talk to for a cure!"

Dahlia swallowed a laugh of her own and sniffed the bottle. It did smell very strongly of apples, and as she scratched her fingernail across the surface, even through her glove, she could tell it was mottled. A fired clay vessel, and a cheap one. If the juice really was clear, there would be no way to tell until it was poured into a wider glass or bowl, or something transparent.

"Are you sure?"

Jayce lightly nudged the bottle in her hand toward her lips. "Just take a sip! An' let me know if it was worth the copper, but be quick about it. The Illustrious Artiste is two doors down."

Dahlia nodded and nervously took a swig, and almost flinched as the juice crashed into her teeth. It was bitingly cold, which she realized shouldn't have been a surprise, but also sweet, tart, slightly bitter, and laced with cinnamon and nutmeg. She could almost feel an autumn wind, scented with boughs laden with plump apples and the slightly sweet scent of fallen leaves and damp earth. Despite its chill, the spices seemed to warm her somewhat, and she smiled in spite of herself.

"So?" Jayce asked, and he gently pulled her to a stop. "Is it good?"

Something came over her. She wasn't sure what it was, but she was powerless to stop it. She turned to Jayce, let go of his arm, and hugged the bottle. "No," she said with a mischievous smile. "It's mine."

"Oh come on, Dahlia. I paid for it," Jayce whined, but she could hear the smile in his voice. "Hand it over. I wanna try it too."

"No. I told you it wasn't good, and you know I don't lie. So it's mine."

There was a pause as Jayce parsed over what she just said. "Okay, yer pullin' my leg or somethin'. If it ain't good, why're you actin' like it's the best goddamn thing you've ever tried?"

Dahlia smiled broadly. "Because it's not good. It's amazing."

"Now I gotta try it. Hand it over!" he laughed.

Dahlia twisted away from Jayce, but she miscalculated which side he would reach for and so accidentally twisted right into his grasp. His hand closed around the neck of the bottle, and while he tried to gently pry it from her grip, she feigned an attempt to fight him off.

"No! Jayce, let go! It's not capped; it's going to spill!" she squealed, and she was bolstered by Jayce's own laugh in response. "If you make me spill this, I'm going to smell like apples for a week!"

"You've got that cleaning spell! You'll be fine!" Jayce laughed, and he threw his arm around her torso to hold her still while he tried to twist the prize from her hands.

She froze.

They both paused, lightly tangled around each other, and Jayce carefully let go and stepped back. She couldn't see how his face was twisted in worry and regret, or how he began to reach for the stick of cinnamon in his coat pocket, just in case. She could barely breathe.

Her skin began to crawl, and the darkness clawed its way up from the depth of her mind, raking her nerves with a thousand memories of harm and pain. She winced, her shoulders tight...but it passed. She held out the bottle for Jayce to take.

"Here," she whispered, her voice almost hoarse from the effort. "You should take it. I'm sorry. That...whole thing was dumb."

"No! No, it's fine," Jayce said quickly, and she noted how he was very careful not to touch her hand as he took the bottle from her. "It was actually kinda fun. I like the 'giddy' you. I wouldn't mind seein' it more often."

Dahlia fidgeted with the hem of her glove. "Even though...it comes with the rest of me? Those black moods and tantrums?" She knew he was going to say no. They all said-

"Yes. Of course."

Her mind went blank. She didn't even realize she had asked why until he had begun to answer.

"Because you've got a damn beautiful mind, Dahlia. You work literal miracles without bein' able to see, and I'd bet you anythin' there ain't another soul on Exandria who can claim the same. Hell, I'd even bet ya the rest of this cider."

Dahlia snorted a laugh through a grimace as she turned away. "You haven't even tasted it."

Jayce chuckled. "You gave it a ringin' endorsement. I don't need to."

He trusted her.

Even with her faults and problems clinging to her like a rotten shadow, he actually trusted her. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She couldn't stall any longer; it was time to get that ring, and, for the first time in decades, feel the sun on her face.

Dahlia turned and stepped past Jayce, and actually made an effort to temporarily ignore him. She needed to get this over with, as fast as possible. Thankfully, they had come to a stop just outside the Illustrious Artiste's front door, so it was short work to find the handle and test if the shop was open.

The door handle rattled as the lock resisted her attempts to open the door. She sighed. It made sense that Caril wouldn't be up that early in the morning.

"Pretty sure the owner's sleepin' this early," Jayce mumbled awkwardly.

Dahlia forced herself to breathe and tried to think. She knew he lived just upstairs; would he be the forgiving sort if she tried to wake him? She almost wished she had Jonathan's Message spell. That, at least, would give her a reply, rather than just hoping she was heard.

Something clattered above them, and out of habit, Dahlia faced upward. It sounded as if a window had opened.

"Good morning!" came Caril's surprisingly chipper voice. "I don't suppose you know my hours start at sunrise?"

"To be fair, good sir, sunrise should be in the next ten minutes," Dahlia smiled. "I'm sorry if we woke you."

Caril waved off the comment, but Dahlia didn't notice. "Oh, we've been up for a while. My wife's been having trouble sleeping. Anyway, being that you're already here and the order is done, I'll head downstairs. Please give me a moment."

With that, Caril ducked back inside and closed the window behind him. Jayce rubbed his hands together and blew into his fingers while they waited. Dahlia wondered if his gloves weren't insulated, like hers.

"Nice of 'im to open early for us," Jayce said with a shiver. "Is it just me, or is it gettin' colder?"

Dahlia smiled. "It's just you. It always feels colder right before the sun comes up. It will warm up a bit when the sunlight finally reaches the streets."

The lock rattled softly and Caril Karmeros opened the door with a smile. "Welcome, Miss...Dahlia, correct?"

Dahlia went stiff as something occurred to her. "Oh! Dawn's light, I never gave you my name! I'm sorry! But, yes, that's correct. How did you know?"

Caril nodded toward Jayce with a wink. "Your companion let it slip when he handed over the ore. Regardless, I didn't think it would be too difficult to keep an eye out for a blind healer; they aren't the type to frequent my shop all that often. Please, come in! It's positively chilly this morning!"

"Ain't gotta tell me twice!" Jayce puffed as he jogged inside. Dahlia followed inside, and a wave of warmth washed over her. She was very tempted to pull down her hood, but she only had to wait a minute or two and such a worry would never cross her mind again.

Despite the carpet on the floor, Dahlia could follow the movements of both men throughout the shop. Jayce stepped toward the door to the left and recorked the apple cider with a soft "pop", and Caril walked to the back of his shop, leaving behind him a powerful wake of magic that permeated the space around her. Wizard magic, from the smell of incense and something acidic that seemed to be unique to the arcane arts.

Dahlia felt a chill stab into her heart. She'd need to take her glove off to put on the ring! How would she explain that to Jayce and Caril? Could she distract them somehow? She could make magical sounds, but after that, could she be fast enough? It had to be something that would grab their attention for as long as possible, so she went over her options. Thaumaturgy gave her the skills of spirits and ghosts, but even then, the skills were limited. She could increase the volume of her voice up to three times, and while that would be loud and distracting, the origin would be obvious. On the other hand, she could manipulate the intensity and brightness of any flame in the room, but that could be too vague. Even the rumbling she had used in the cave would be too generic; she couldn't control where their eyes would wander if the whole building shook, and there was Caril's wife upstairs. She was already having a hard time sleeping, and Dahila immediately felt guilt at even the attempt to disturb the practical stranger. The only other aspects of Thaumaturgy that could be useful were the ability to create a spontaneous noise, such as thunder, ominous whispers, or the cry of a carrion bird, or the ability to throw unlocked doors or windows suddenly open or shut. The last one held the most promise. A direct, loud, and potentially lingering distraction, especially if she could layer over another casting of the spell to sound like a loud wind was passing by.

That sounded like her best bet. It may be somewhat jarring for the woman upstairs, but it would be quick, and easy enough to confirm it was nothing serious. But was it lying?

No, the vow was "speak no lie". There was nothing about spells. It was only the one action, although technically two spells, and she wouldn't have to lie again. She had a plan.

Dahlia stiffened as Caril's footsteps returned, and she stepped up to the counter to meet him halfway. Caril set down a small box in front of her with a barely audible clack. She realized the box was made of wood, just like the counter.

"Let's see…" Caril mumbled, and Dahlia could hear small pages flipping behind the counter. "Your order is...paid in full, so you're all set." A smile entered his voice. "It's in the small box in front of you. If you'd like, I can, uh, do my best to demonstrate the activation trigger for you."

Dahlia forced a smile, and gently tugged at her left glove to loosen it. "Thank you, but I would prefer you just describe it. Could you open the box for me? I'd like to hold the ring while you talk."

"Of course!" Caril smiled, and it was clear his was genuine.

The hinge on the box creaked softly as the box was opened in front of her. She kept her left hand under the edge of the counter as her right found the edge of the box. Inside was a surprisingly smooth band of metal, but, even through her glove, Dahlia could barely make out ridges that ran the circumference of the outside edge. Even though the inside was smooth, it was as if three similar bands were set into a single base, but as her fingers traced the grooves, the center ring came up short. The two outer bands connected across the gap left by the center one, and on the far side of this dam of sorts, the other end of the center band had a small nub on it.

"The runes for the enchantment are written on the center band," Caril began, noting how she rolled it around in her fingers, "but are incomplete until they match up with the marks on the outer band. You can easily slide it into place by twisting it clockwise, or until the catch at the end snaps into place next to the break. As long as it's loose, the magic won't be active. Oh, and I understand if cosmetic choices aren't especially meaningful to you, but the center band is made with some of the gold you provided. Think of it...as a way to keep that memory of kindness with you."

Dahlia could feel Jayce's presence step up close to her left side, and her shoulders went tense. Even so, she was touched by Caril's addition to the ring, and her smile became a little more sincere. "Thank you, Sir Karmeros. That's very kind of you."

"Of course." Caril's voice carried a smile. "I was able to extend the enchantment's duration to a full day, and it will need at least one hour to recharge. Theoretically, it could last a whole week, but I can't tell you how long it will be inactive afterwards."

"Perfect, Sir Karmeros. Thank you so much," Dahlia said with obvious relief, although Jayce's presence over her shoulder was still causing her to tense up. Somehow, she had to work her spell's vocal command into conversation-

"Sir Jayce, could I ask your opinion on this piece?"

Jayce sounded just as confused as Dahlia felt. "Eh? Uh, sure. Which one?"

Dahlia rolled the ring around in her hand as their voices wandered away, toward the door.

"This piece here. This breastplate. You seem a well groomed man yourself, so I'd like your opinion. Despite this armor being specifically enchanted to include a magical toughness, I can't get it to sell; I've had it for years. Is it the design?"

As interested as Dahlia was in Jayce's opinion, she could tell from the way their voices drifted that their backs were currently toward her. With her shoulders set, she slipped off the loosened glove and slid the new ring on her exposed hand. Even as her skin crawled from the potential exposure, she gritted her teeth and clicked the trigger into place.

Her skin crawled with a far different sensation, a wave of static energy that originated at her left hand and prickled over her entire form. She shuddered and rolled her neck just enough to confirm the sensation was over, and then slipped her glove back on.

Should she risk it? She could inherently trust Caril to be a man of his word and use her cleaning spell to remove the paint and stain, or she could continue to keep herself disguised and keep the glamor as a backup plan. However, the whole point of the ring was so she no longer had to rely on her paint, so it would truly be a waste if she refused to do so. Besides, as it stood, she had the element of surprise, all of her things on her person, and if Caril truly did lie, or failed to deliver on her order, she could easily run. She noted the time and took a deep breath.

"Now or never," she whispered.

While Jayce did not think of himself as fashionable, he did consider himself well dressed, and so gave a critical eye to the breastplate in question. It was made of steel, and while it was clearly functional, it was etched with beautiful flourishes of vines and stars, stained with a gold-colored finish along seams and edges. It barely took him a minute to come to a conclusion.

Jayce tapped his fingers together as he looked it over. "While I see what yer goin' for on this one, it looks damn pretty."

"Of course!" Caril beamed. "It took almost a week to do the etching. However...I'm getting the feeling that's not the end of the story."

Jayce nodded. "It looks like somethin' ya'd wear to a ceremony, not a fight. You get a fighter walkin' in here, lookin' for armor, and this thing makes me wonder if I'm gonna end up scratchin' it up an' breaking the magic. I don't know how enchanting works, so I'd avoid something I might easily break."

Caril did a long, drawn out nod of realization. "Of course…! I never thought of it that way. So, in a sense, you're saying this is too fancy?"

Jayce was shocked Caril was taking it so well, and decided to tread carefully, just in case. "I'm sayin', if your work is as good as I'm convinced it is, let it talk for itself. Don't rely on gimmicks and flashy tricks to catch eyes."

Caril glanced back to the back of the shop, and Jayce, with confusion, noted the tiefling man had a soft smile on his face. "And on that note, Lady Dahlia, is the ring to your liking?"

Dahlia turned toward the two men, and she had that same, hard to read smile. "Yes, sir. Thank you again for your wonderful work."

Jayce had to catch himself. She looked...different. Her skin had a strange glow to it, what little he could see, and her lips were strangely visible. They used to fade into her skin from being such a similar color, but now they seemed to have the hue of a blushing pink rose against her pale skin.

He almost slapped a hand across his own face from the thought, but he managed to keep his hands to his sides. He couldn't believe he just quoted a romantic descriptor from The Black Wings at Dawn to himself. Didn't he skip that scene?

Caril smiled and clapped his hands together in satisfaction. "Well then, unless you have other orders-"

"Sweetheart?"

A woman had poked her head into the shop from the left side door. Her long, deep brown hair tumbled across her shoulders in thick curls, and occasionally caught in the wide weave of a heavy, knitted woolen shawl. Caril immediately jogged over to the door.

"Lyne! What are you doing out of bed?" Caril gently took her arm and tried to lead her back into the private residence beyond the door. "It's cold out today-"

She brushed off his hands and stepped further into the shop, and Caril backed up as if he was afraid she'd break from the slightest force. Lyne obviously noticed and was clearly not pleased.

"I know it's cold, and I know you're worried!" she huffed, and then looked beyond the worried tiefling toward Dahlia at the counter. "This is the doctor you mentioned, right?"

"Love, she's blind," Caril muttered through his teeth, while flashing a useless smile at Dahlia. "And I'm pretty sure she isn't a maternity specialist!"

Jayce took another look at this new woman, and even under the heavy shawl and an equally heavy woolen gown, it was immediately clear she was heavily pregnant. She must be the wife Caril had mentioned while they were outside.

"If I may," Jayce cut in, as it was clear Dahlia had heard their comments as clearly as he had, "I know for a fact Dahlia's got some experience in maternal medicine. She picked up a journal just the other day, an' I had the pleasure of readin' all the latest of that facet of healing to her. You wouldn't ask if ya weren't worried about somethin', so please, as thanks for yer husband's work, how can we help?"

"Love-!" Caril pleaded.

"Caril, please!" Lyne grunted as she fought to keep her temper in check. "Miss… Dahlia?"

Dahlia offered her a kind smile. "Yes, ma'am?"

Lyne took a deep breath and fidgeted with the tassels of her shawl. "I've been getting a pain in my chest for the past couple days. It's intense, and while it does pass, this is the second day in a row, and we're having our first soon. Our midwife says next month. I'm worried. Can you help me?"

Caril hovered protectively by his wife, his teeth nervously working his lip as he glanced between the women. Jayce offered a kind and encouraging smile when Caril looked over, and flashed a thumbs up. Caril seemed relieved, and stepped back as Dahlia thought it over.

"This pain in your chest," Dahlia began, and it was obvious she was choosing her words carefully. "Where, exactly, is this pain?"

Lyne puffed as she looked herself over, and traced a hand just under her ribcage. "Uh, here- Oh! Sorry. Um, under my-" She glanced at Jayce and blushed lightly. Jayce could tell she was embarrassed.

"Should I step out?" Jayce asked.

"Please no!" Dahlia said a little too quickly, and she cleared her throat. "I mean, I trust your judgement, but Madam and Sir Karmeros, Jayce is my eyes. I trust him to be professional, but if it helps, I'm assuming you mean this area here, as you sounded hesitant." She traced a hand across her diaphragm, slightly above the base of her ribs but below her breasts. "Am I correct?"

Lyne breathed in relief. "Yes. Right there. It was intense enough to wake us both up this morning, over an hour ago."

Dahlia nodded, and gave the evidence some thought. She wasn't quite as well versed in maternal medicine as Jayce made it seem, and she was concerned she would misdiagnose the woman. She went with a safe bet.

"I won't say it's nothing to worry about, because pain never is," Dahlia began as she turned to face the Karmeros family. "It's possible your baby is preparing to lighten, which is to say prepare for birth, and the abdominal muscles are sore from the rearrangement. That said, please speak to your midwife, as she will know far more about this than me; I specialize in field medicine and surgery, and I'm not confident my assessment is accurate."

"We can visit her today, love. You'll be okay," Caril said softly as he pulled Lyne into a hug. "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

"I hope it's not," Lyne sighed, "but thank you, Lady Dahlia. Thank you."

"Of course," Dahlia replied. "We should leave you to discuss this. Jayce?" She turned to face her friend. "Have you eaten yet?"

Jayce suppressed a chuckle and crossed his arms. "Pretty sure you haven't either."

"Well, it is before sunrise," Caril said with a nervous laugh. "There is a bakery two blocks down that makes pastries as well as bread this early. It's a particular favorite of ours." As he spoke, he vaguely gestured in the direction they would have to travel when they exited the shop as if they could see it from the door.

"Sounds perfect," Jayce smiled. "What's it called?"

"Brewpack Bakery. It's run by a family of halflings," Caril replied. "It's hard to miss. They even have chocolate."

"No shit! Marquesian?" Jayce said, unable to keep the excitement from his voice.

"I have no idea," Caril sighed and visibly deflated. Lyne couldn't help but giggle at his expense.

"That settles it. Dahlia, we're goin' to the Brewpack Bakery," Jayce beamed. He confidently stepped over and tapped her elbow before taking it. "Thank ya both kindly, ma'am an' sir. May yer little bundle of joy be happy and healthy when it arrives."

"Thank you," Lyne said with genuine gratitude, and her hand unconsciously rested on her stomach. "And good luck in your endeavours, too."

Jayce mimed a tip of the hat and led Dahlia outside, with an obvious bounce in his step. Dahlia, confused, allowed him to walk them both about a block before she finally spoke up.

"Jayce, what are you so excited about? What's chocolate?" She barely kept up and almost stumbled as he pulled her along. He was obviously exhilarated about something.

"Oh, yer in for a treat!" Jayce nearly laughed, and his broad smile came through clearly in his voice. "It ain't somethin' I can explain, beyond it's usually sweet and great on soft bread."

Dahlia tried to think and run at the same time as she continued to be dragged along. "Okay, so is it like a jam?"

This time he did laugh, but rather than respond, he pulled her along to a doorway that was propped open to let in the chill. A warm wave of air from clay ovens, still burning for their daily ration of ambient heat, filled the front of the wooden and clay brick shop with a heavy memory of summer, and it was no surprise to see an older halfling man neglect his shirt for a simple apron as he punched down dough at the counter. The smell of yeasted breads, sugar, and hot oil washed over them as they stepped into the golden light of the bakery's lanterns.

The pleasant looking man immediately looked up and smiled with bright eyes as he brushed flour off his hands. "Good morning to ye! A couple of early birds, eh? I don't normally get customers for a round face yet."

Jayce was a little thrown by the foriegn idiom but didn't let it show, and instead gave a bright smile of his own. "Couple fans of yours sang yer praises and we had to see for ourselves. I heard right ya got chocolate?"

"Right we do!" The halfling hopped down from whatever stool he had perched on behind the counter and briefly disappeared from sight. When he stepped back into view on their side, he had pulled a wool button coat over his shoulders. "All the way from Nicodranas, The Escape itself! We pride ourselves on using only the purest chocolate liqueurs, sweetened with the honey from our very own hives."

"That's quite a claim," Jayce smirked, and crossed his arms. "Can ya hold up to it?"

The halfling chuckled and braced his hands on his hips. "That sounds like a challenge in my ear! I take it you've had chocolate before?"

"Likely more'n my fair share!" Jayce laughed, and then he pulled Dahlia forward. "Truth is, my friend here ain't had it before, and I got fond memories of it myself. You give her somethin' she won't forget, and I'll buy a heap of pastries from ya."

The halfling looked over them both, Jayce with his excitement clear on his features, and Dahlia as she shrunk away in nervous anxiety. He rubbed his chin with his fingers, and either he was oblivious to the flour he left behind or he simply didn't care, as a proud grin spread across his face.

"You've got yourself a deal, good sir!" The halfling turned toward the back room and called out, "Diamay! Bring out a fresh batch of stuffed loukies! We've got customers!" as he jogged out of sight.

"I have so many questions," Dahlia groaned.

"Just wait," Jayce chuckled. "You'll love this, I promise."

Dahlia pulled her elbow free and crossed her arms as she faced him. "Do you even know what a 'loukie' is?"

"No clue!" he laughed. "It'll be fun to find out though."

Dahlia tried, and failed, to suppress a smile of her own. "You're ridiculous."

Jayce crossed his own arms and put on fake competitive airs. "Ain't that why you keep me around?"

"Dawn's light…!" Dahlia giggled, and she dropped her head into her hands to hide her laughter. It was a foolhardy attempt, but she did it anyway. Jayce considered that a victory over her darkness and was glad no one was there to see him briefly gloat to some imagined demon.

The halfling man returned with a folded paper box in his hands, which he slid onto the counter, as a halfling woman held up a plate of three round balls of crispy fried dough, lightly steaming and golden from a brushing of warm honey syrup, and gently sprinkled in crushed walnuts.

"Nice to see you're still rooted in!" the man beamed. "This's my wife, Diamay, and I'm Hobse, calling claim to the Brewpack family. We present you both with our famous loukoumades, stuffed with a chocolate custard my wife invented."

"Don't tell me late mam!" Diamay laughed. "She was a right terror with a ladle when I bucked traditions like this."

"Bucked traditions?" Dahlia asked.

"Oh, hon, you haven't had these before, have you?" Diamay said with the absolute kindness of a patient mother. "Our old traditions say these shouldn't...Oh my word. Uh, shouldn't be stuffed. Are you injured, hon?"

Diamay, having just noticed Dahlia's blindfold, looked incredibly unsure of how to proceed. Hobse was no help, but Jayce took it in stride.

"May I, ma'am?" he asked, holding out his hand for the plate.

Dahlia huffed and turned away as Diamay handed over the plate. Jayce remembered her reaction at the Cobalt Reserve and attempted to head off the argument before it became heated.

"She ain't so much injured as she is just blind, ma'am," Jayce began. "The blindfold helps keep people from assumin' she can see, on account she gets around well enough to pass for a person with perfect vision."

The husband and wife stared at him with absolute awe. "I can't imagine living without sight," Hobse whistled under his breath. "Good on you for living strong, ma'am."

With her frustration turned to fluster, Dahlia stammered a quiet thank you as Jayce moved the plate in front of her face. She immediately noted the steam and sweet smell of the warmed honey, and her hand hovered just above the plate.

"Are these the loukie- I mean, louka… I'm sorry, what were they again?"

"Loukoumades, hon," Diamay said warmly. She spontaneously decided to continue describing them, just in case. "They're balls of yeasted batter, fried in oil until fluffy and light, brushed with honey we collect ourselves and sprinkled with crushed walnuts from the market. The chocolate custard inside is my own twirl on it, but again, don't tell my late mam."

Hobse and Diamay shared a small laugh as Dahlia gingerly picked up one of the sticky little spheres. They weren't perfectly round, and little burs left over from the portioning method had crisped up into crunchy little delights speckled across its surface. With a gulp of trepidation, she raised one loukoumade to her lips and was secretly relieved she couldn't see everyone watching her with baited breath.

She immediately learned her fear was completely unfounded. The complex sour sweetness of the honey was quickly followed by something both bitter and smooth, and yet completely complimentary. As the warmth passed deeper into her being, she sighed with a deep contented calm before she even realized she had vocalized her relief.

The custard was velvety and lingering, and long after her first bite had been swallowed, the taste remained. She barely realized she was smiling.

"This...this is amazing!" Dahlia said with a barely restrained squeal. "Jayce, how many can we get? You did promise you'd buy a 'heap', and there's no way I'd forget something like this!"

Jayce was briefly distracted, as a light pink had touched Dahlia's cheeks. He thought she couldn't blush, but the suddenly added color made her look so warm and soft.

Hobse clearly noted the half-orc's pause and, remembering his own past of wooing his wife, jumped at the opportunity. "Already packed two dozen for you both, and they're still warm and sweet. They'll be especially nice this early in the morning, eh?"

Hobse winked at his wife, and she replied with a knowing, giddy smile. She then added a comment of her own. "There's a good garden, bit of a walk, but not too far; A memorial park, just south of the Opal Ward. Plenty of autumn color, and good for a talk."

Jayce awkwardly cleared his throat and turned back to the halfling couple. "Mighty kind of ya both, but we've got friends waitin' for us and today's gonna be a bit busy; probably best if we head on back. How much I owe ya for the two dozen?"

Hobse nodded with a bit of a disappointed smile, but soldiered on. "Two silver, sir."

Jayce winced a bit at the price of the pastries, but with his own travels in mind, he had a pretty good idea how far that chocolate had traveled. He dipped his hand in the pouch and mentally called forth the money, and was relieved to note he still had silver on hand. "Fair price, good sir. Pleasure doin' business."

The Brewpack couple's thanks was just as warm as their baking as Jayce and Dahlia left the shop. She was mostly silent as she savored the last bite of her stuffed loukoumade, but a pleasured moan did escape her lips.

Jayce shivered, but not from the cold.

He opened his mouth to speak several times, but somehow he couldn't find the words. What did he even want to say? Somehow, the quiet between them felt oppressive, and if it wasn't for the large folded paper box in his arms, he was sure he would be fidgeting obsessively. Why was this so awkward?

He glanced over at Dahlia, and she seemed to be in thought just as deep as him. Her hand had come to rest on the back of his arm, as usual, but what he could see of her face had become contemplative. He hoped, anyway. It was very hard to tell what someone was thinking when their eyes were covered. What color were her eyes, anyway? He was surprised to note how desperate he was to know.

Should he ask? She did say she'd be willing to show him in a couple days… That was a couple days ago, right? He was having a hard time remembering the exact date of that conversation.

He chuckled at the thought.

"What's so funny?" Dahlia asked abruptly, as if shaken from her own internal monologue.

Jayce shrugged, as he knew she could feel the movement through her grip. "Just remembered a chat we had a while ago, couldn't remember what day, then I realized you'd probably tell me exactly when it happened, down to the damn hour."

Dahlia chuckled under her breath and tilted her head toward him. "I probably could. Which conversation?"

Jayce suddenly felt awkward, and the more he thought about it, asking about her blindfold somehow equated to asking her to undress in front of him. "Just, ya know, asked the other day what your eyes looked like, or asked t' see 'em, or somethin'... Ha, can't seem to remember what exactly we said. Ya know, it's not a big deal, you're gonna show me when yer ready, an' that's-"

"I...did promise," she sighed. "I suppose it's fair. I've been curious what you look like too."

"But you're blind!" Jayce knew it was stupid as soon as he said it, but he doubled down anyway. "How're ya gonna 'look' at me?"

Thankfully, Dahlia took it with a subtle laugh. "I'd have to touch you, but it required taking off my gloves to do that. I think...I'm ready, so if you are, I'd like to 'see' you."

Jayce had to fight the adrenaline in his veins. Something about that simple request seemed so intimate, so personal, it almost seemed indecent. He was probably blushing like mad and he didn't even have a good reason as to why.

He tried to clear his throat as softly as possible before he turned to her as they continued to walk. "I'm game. Wanna stop by your room or do it in the common room, while we wait for the rest of the fuckers t' get up?

Dahlia sputtered a short laugh before lightly shoving Jayce's arm. "Jayce, they're good people. Please don't insult them."

"Sure. Only one I got reason t' like is Gauth," Jayce said with a not so subtle roll of his eyes. "Zoe's a brat, Al's an asshole, and John sets me off. Guath's the most endearing bloke on the team, and the only thing goin' for him is he ain't afraid t' step up when needs it."

"What about…" Dahlia's words caught in her throat. Did she dare ask? There was every chance her fears would be realized as soon as he answered.

"What, you? Nah, you're clearly my favorite. Yer the only one I'd actually call a friend."

That smile in his voice. What did it look like? She hadn't been wearing her greasepaint since leaving Caril's shop, and no one had said anything...so either everyone was involved in a highly unlikely conspiracy, or Caril's work really did hold up his promise. She could actually take off her gloves and really feel, and in a way finally see, the world.

"So, uh," Jayce unconsciously cleared his throat again. "Your room? Common room?"

"Oh!" Dahlia returned to the previous question and gave it some thought. "I think I'd prefer my room, but once we get to know each other better or I need a refresher, we can do it wherever you'd like."

The darker reaches of Jayce's mind took that comment in increasingly intimate directions as he fought to hear anything beyond the pounding heartbeat in his ears. He had to remind himself, over and over again, that she was a professional, and she would act as one. Hells, they had even bathed in the same room together and she never made a move toward him or, in that moment, touched him. She was even, once, on top of him, straddled across his hips, and had practically pinned him to the floor, her fingers tangled in his hair-

"Jayce!"

Jayce shook his head to clear it and turned to Dahlia, who was struggling to catch up to him. As Jayce had overstepped her reach for several strides, Dahlia was forced to traverse the, thankfully, empty streets of Westruun on her own without any sort of guide. Her step was unsure and slow, but long enough to make it clear she wasn't stumbling through the dark. Even so, if Jayce hadn't been revived from his vivid musings, he could have easily left her behind.

"Shit! My apologies, Dahlia." He jogged back to her and shifted the box of pastries to one arm so he could guide her hand back to his side. "Got fuckin' distracted there."

Please don't ask why, please don't ask me why, his thoughts begged.

"Excited for those loukoumades?" Dahlia teased.

Jayce nearly laughed in relief and falsely admitted that was exactly what was on his mind, and made a big show of how she had made them seem so absolutely delicious that he could barely wait. Dahlia noted his overreaction, but also noted he was clearly uncomfortable about something; perhaps it hailed back to his discomfort around women, and he was nervous about how she requested to touch him. That put her at ease, and she secretly hoped he would ask to wait for another day.

They walked back in relative silence, and made it all the way to Dahlia's room before they really spoke again. Unfortunately for Dahlia, he did not, in fact, ask to wait.

Jayce placed the box of pastries on the small desk below the shuttered window and turned back to Dahlia as she closed the door. As before, no lamp was lit, as neither of them really needed any additional light beyond what slipped under the door.

"So, uh, do you...want me to stand? Sit on the bed?" Jayce rubbed some life back into his face. He couldn't tell if it was numb from the cold outside or embarrassment. He was acting like a fool.

Dahlia stepped over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, then nodded. "Seems you're about as tall as me, so...standing should be fine. We can sit if it'd be more comfortable for you. It may take me a while to really get an idea of your face."

"I'll, um, sit," Jayce mumbled, and he shifted to the left side bed. Despite the cold outside, he was feeling progressively warmer, and his coat was getting stifling. He was almost glad he had decided to pass on the armor that morning, as he didn't think he'd be able to keep from sweating with the extra layer. Why was he thinking of this, toward a woman who had never shown any interest, and who had enough shit to deal with as it was? He barely knew what her face looked like! What was he even feeling? Attraction? Lust? Some misguided version of obligation?

With all the thoughts rattling around in his head, he didn't even notice Dahlia was stalling until he had shrugged off the coat.

He turned to see Dahlia had pulled off her gloves but, rather than set them down, she wrung them through her hands over and over again. He watched her, confused, for several moments before he finally spoke.

"Uh, you okay, Dahlia?"

Dahlia nearly twitched, distracted by the memories that were hounding her. The last time she had learned someone's face was nearly five years ago, and that man was the third. Was it really a good idea to tempt fate like that? As much as she wanted to trust Jayce, that trust was what gave those...people the opportunity to nearly kill her. Then again, the ring seemed to be working, so perhaps it was worth it to trust a little more.

She turned toward Jayce and barely smiled. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm distracted this time. Would it be better if you lit the lamp in here? I know the sun's rising, but I believe the windows are west facing, so that doesn't help."

"Uh, don't really need it, but sure," Jayce mumbled as he stood up. It was short work to use the attached striker box on the oil lamp, and soon the whole room was bathed in a warm glow. "There. Now the room's lit."

Dahlia could barely hear a smile in his voice. It was probably forced. Was he upset?

She was about to ask him to leave and maybe she would try another day when he sat on the bed and, with a genuine smile this time, said "You ready? 'Cause I gotta admit, I'm curious if ya think I'm a good match for my voice."

Dahlia giggled at the thought. She usually didn't try to assign faces to people, but certain voices did have certain clues. It was more of an unconscious habit than a conscious effort, even if it was occasionally entertaining.

"You know, now that you mention it, I'm curious too," Dahlia smiled, and for the first time in almost a week, pulled down her hood. "Are you ready?"

Jayce sat up straight and still on the bed as she moved to sit next to him. "Ready as I'll ever be. Anything I gotta do?"

Dahlia hesitated with her fingers just an inch from his jaw. "It may be best to close your eyes. I don't want to accidentally hurt you."

"Good idea," Jayce said with a smirk, then closed his eyes and relaxed as her fingertips brushed his cheek. He almost held his breath as her fluttering touch drifted across his chin, his nose, his cheekbones, his brow, slowly but surely covering every inch of his face. Slowly but surely, his face began to take shape in her mind, and she had to smile. She could easily tell that Jayce was considered attractive, based on vague memories of a world she used to see. Then, she brushed his lips, and paused as her fingers discovered the scar on the left corner of his mouth.

"What happened here?" she whispered, as she continued to dedicate his shape to memory. Jayce chuckled through a soft laugh, and her hand was still against his face. She didn't know if it was intentional, but that allowed her to see that gentle smile. She had an image for it now.

"Normally, I'd tell ya about some fucker I punched out in a bar," Jayce began, and despite the temptation, he kept his eyes closed as her hands explored his face. "Truth of the matter is, the real reason ain't so dramatic."

"Knowing you, I doubt that," Dahlia smiled. "So, what happened?"

Jayce shrugged and recounted the tale. "Day I turned thirteen, on the Wraith Heart, I'd already been on deck a few years by then. Most've the crew had near on adopted me as the 'little brother' on board, despite bein' just the cabin boy. So, word got around that it was my birthday, and a coupla deck hands pulled me aside and regaled me with the wonders and majesty of this damn expensive pastry called 'cake'..."

"I am filled with trepidation and dread," Dahlia giggled. "What happened next?"

Jayce also laughed to himself as he tried to remember the details. "Can't remember what kind they told me about, probably chocolate… Pretty sure we were near Nicodranas 'round then. That aside, they bet me a whole damn cake to myself to celebrate another year round the sun, if I could nab a rat with my bare hands. Little shitheads'd been a problem as we were transportin' grain, and those things were mighty fond of the stuff. So off I went, prowlin' the decks with the focus of a goddamn hunter, until I spotted a right fat fucker hidin' in the storeroom."

Dahlia looked briefly horrified. "Did it bite you? On the face?!"

Jayce nearly burst out laughing at the thought, even though he knew full well it wouldn't have been funny at the time. "No, although that would've been a better story! At least I would'a taken the damn thing down."

Dahlia sat back, her hands fell to her lap, and she was clearly confused. "Okay, so what happened?"

Jayce noticed her hands were taken away, and so finally opened his eyes. He began to gesture through the more exciting moments, despite the movements being lost on Dahlia. "Well, I got a bead on that thing, and nothin' stopped me from chasin' it down. I vaulted over barrels, I ducked under sailors, I scrambled across ropes… I was gonna get that asshole if it killed me! Damn, I wanted that cake. Then it made it to top deck, and raced right down the center, toward the main mast. Most of the crew were watching by then, cheerin' me on, and fuckin' hell my blood was pumpin'. I closed the distance, reached out, I could almost feel that fuckin' thing's fur between my fingers…!"

Dahlia had unconsciously begun to lean forward as she became invested in the story. Even though Jayce couldn't see her eyes, her lips had parted ever so slightly in a silent gasp. He leaned back to give himself some space, and then slammed his hands together in the loudest clap he dared to make so early in the morning. Dahlia, predictably, jumped.

"Wham! Face first into the main mast!" He laughed, both at Dahlia's reaction and his past stupidity. "Cut my lips on my own damn teeth. Gods, I was fuckin' inconsolable. Too damn proud to cry, I ended up a blubberin' mess as all those sailors started screamin' at each other. Lookin' back, I get it now that they were blamin' each other for puttin' me in a place where I got hurt, on account I was the little brother an' all that, but at the time I just did my damnedest to put on a brave face and march right off to my bunk."

"I don't know whether to laugh or offer my condolences…!" Dahlia shakily spoke as she fought back a laugh. "Did you...at least get any cake?"

Jayce had to suppress his own laughter to keep talking. "Damn straight. Crew felt so bad they got me one of them fancy ones, the kind with gold flakes on top. Been keepin' a eye out for chocolate ever since." Jayce paused and rubbed his chin in thought. "Now that I think on it, probably was the captain's idea; Didn't hear the words, but I did hear him reaming out the crew for damn near an hour while I patched up my face."

"If...it's any consolidation," Dahlia mumbled, and as she no longer had her gloves to fidget with, she instead pinched and twisted at her thumbs, "I can't imagine a bar fight that would be half as entertaining as that story. I'm glad you're okay, and that you got your cake. Thank you."

Jayce's eyes drifted to her delicate hands, with soft fingers that tapered at the ends. They looked unblemished, free from the calluses of a hard life. They had been so gentle as they brushed across his face. How long had she been wearing those gloves, or something like them? How long had it been since she felt the world around her?

"Truth be told," Jayce whispered, more quietly than he intended, "it ain't a life I'd trade. Sure, it was hard, and it ain't all grand, but I've enjoyed what's come to pass. Especially recently."

His gaze drifted to her face again, and he once more wondered what her eyes looked like. The same questions came to mind, and of course, he had no answers. Not until she was ready, and he wouldn't dare press her. In the meanwhile, he did have other questions.

"Do you...have any scars?" he asked, and then quickly followed with, "And ya got every right t' tell me to fuck off, if it's too personal. I get it."

Dahlia went tense, and then sighed. "I have...more than a few, and maybe one day… But for now, I have a favor to ask. It's a small one! Don't worry. It's nothing complicated. I just…"

Jayce's mind went in a thousand directions before he realized she was reaching for her blindfold. His breath caught in his chest. Was she really going to take it off?

"Can you...tell me what color my eyes are?" Dahlia whispered, as if the request was too taboo to speak out loud, and reached behind her head and tugged at the familiar knot. "It's...it's been so long since… I don't even know if I remember what they look like."

The blindfold slipped down her face and Jayce was immediately glad he had lit the lamp. The curves of her eyes were exotic, almond shaped, as was common of her race, and her eyelashes were long and full, giving her face an almost noble beauty. He had to remind himself to stop clenching his jaw as the anticipation gnawed at him.

Her eyes fluttered open, and, unsurprisingly, she did not match his gaze. Her eyes were fully dilated, despite the lamp being directly behind Jayce, and the light therefore in her eyes, and the dark depths of her pupils so easily reflected the dancing flame. Jayce was enchanted, and then noted the emerald greens of her iris, how they danced between the blues of a dark storm and a calm ocean, as they simultaneously reminded him of forests above, and below, the waves.

"Gods above…" he breathed, before he realized he was even talking. "Your eyes...are beautiful."

Dahlia winced and turned away, and the spell was broken. Jayce almost reached for her, desperate to know what he had done wrong, and then caught himself. "And green. Beautiful and green, Dahlia. Sorry; don't know what came over me."

"It's fine," Dahlia mumbled, and she gripped the blindfold tightly in her hands. She knew she should put it back on. She would be safer that way. It was nice to know Caril had followed through, of course, but it would be safer with the blindfold on. "I'm glad...they're what I expected. Thank you, Jayce. I suppose I've exposed myself enough-"

A hand wrapped around hers, and her shoulders went tight. Ever so gently, Jayce pressed her hand back into her lap, and then pulled away. His bare hand against hers. Her skin tingled where he touched her. Had it really been so long since she had felt another living being touch her?

"Please, don't put it back on," Jayce gently whispered. "You ain't gotta hide anymore. I said I'd be your protector, and I'm gonna be the best goddamn protector I can be to make that happen. You deserve to feel the sun, Dahlia. As a follower of Pelor, even just as a decent person, that's your right."

Dahlia bit back a smile and fought back tears. How long it had been since she felt the sun on her face. Even as her fears clamored in her mind, her desperation made the stronger argument. She faced her friend and nodded.

"Alright. No more blindfold...for now, at least. I may have to put it back on when we're sneaking into the World Market."

Jayce nodded, even though Dahlia couldn't see him. "Fair's fair. Speaking of...probably time we got the blokes up, eh?"

"Right…" Dahlia sighed, and she stood up from the bed. "We do have the loukoumades in our favor, but I would prefer to hold them. I have a feeling our companions will be more amicable to you than me so early in the morning."

Jayce blew out a breath of annoyance but stood up and pulled his coat back on. She was probably right. After all, he did have a knack for charming people, especially those who were upset with him. In what felt like a strikingly final ending to a moment he didn't want to lose, Jayce put out the lamp by the door and pitched the room back into darkness.