These chapters are mostly going to be chronologically pretty close together (as is the entire canon plot too). This chapter happens the morning after the first chapter.


Elizabeth takes one look at the two of them, neither having gotten much sleep when morning rolls around, and assigns them a task before Victoria can do it herself. Thus, for the rest of the morning, Morgan and Mime keep themselves busy at the alchemy shop, Kaidan is assigned to bed rest by the matching stern looks of both Morgan and Elizabeth (like mentor, like apprentice), and Ann returns to Quinn's shop to get started on her research—or continue, rather. Based on the studious Tinker's tired face this morning, she hadn't gotten much sleep either in favor of her research. It seems as though all six of them had been up and about at hours they shouldn't have been—even Mime, who was roused by Kaidan's nightmare.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth pushes a slip of paper with a list on it at Michael and Victoria and tells them to go get groceries from the market if they insist on doing something this morning. Considering that Elizabeth is now housing an extra four people, and that neither of them got enough sleep to do anything much more strenuous than shopping, they comply with no arguments.

At least, no arguments against Elizabeth.

"Face it, we're lost."

"We are not lost. I've been here longer than you, I know where we are."

Michael sighs, hands behind his head in the very image of lackadaisical carelessness. "You've been here for, what, a single day longer than I have? Why don't we just ask a local? Give your poor, overworked eyes a break from that map of yours?"

Victoria decides to give her eyes a break from glaring witheringly at the map of the town by glaring witheringly at him instead. Michael grins back, quite unwithered.

"No? Well, I suppose you did hit your quota of showing vulnerability by admitting that you needed our help this morning with the mansion raid," he teases.

She hisses reflexively, tensing. "Oh, shout it a little louder, why don't you? Wouldn't want anyone to miss out on the fact that we're planning a crime against the richest man in the valley, would we?"

He regards her with an unappreciated look of amusement. "Certainly not, judging by the volume of your voice. Come on, the sooner we get back to the shop, the sooner we can go back to planning nefarious crimes in broad daylight."

Before she can retort, he snags the attention of a young woman cleaning the windows of a storefront. "So sorry to bother you, miss, but my friend and I are new here and a little lost. Would you mind pointing us in the direction of the market?"

The girl blushes prettily when Michael smiles at her, and Victoria bites back a sigh. They receive directions to the market quickly enough, except the girl continues rambling on about her favorite vendors, a nice park near the market that she likes to frequent, a lovely duck pond within said park, what type of bread is preferred by said ducks, and other such trivialities, and Michael is only too happy to encourage her.

"I'm going on ahead," she finally says curtly to Michael. "Meet me there when you're done socializing."

To the girl, she gives a perfunctory thanks before striding off. As she leaves, she hears Michael say, "Sorry about her. She's had a long morning. I'd tell you that her face isn't always fixed in that fearsome glare, but…"

o0o0o

When the shop's manager finally comes out to berate Michael's new friend, Brook, he bids goodbye to her, promising to come back and chat sometime, and sets out for the markets. It's been a good fifteen, twenty minutes, and knowing Victoria, she's acquired at least half of what they were sent to buy already.

Breathing out a content sigh, he lets the crowds swallow him whole. Anemone Valley isn't a big town, but the markets are a hotspot of activity, full of vendors advertising enthusiastically, wagons clattering busily across the cobbled streets, people bustling every which way with their own agendas. Every town is different, but he likes this one just fine. There's plenty of color in the cloth roofs of many of the stalls, in the bright produce displayed proudly in crates and shelves, and most spectacularly of all, in the arrays of flowers blooming everywhere he looks. According to Brook, the town's annual flower festival is just around the corner, and the town is preparing accordingly. Quinn must be busy these days.

As he makes his way around the market, idly making a mental note of some of the stalls that Brook pointed out, he keeps an eye out for Victoria as well, searching for her long, sweeping ponytail, her tall, broad-shouldered frame, and flashing ruby eyes. In this crowd, she's bound to stand out.

True to his expectations, he picks her out of the milling traffic almost as soon as he turns a corner, although he almost didn't recognize her for a moment. She'd taken her jacket off, revealing a plain white shirt underneath, sleeves rolled up to the elbows in a surprisingly casual look. In contrast, the same impenetrable air remains, as if her appearance is declaring that, dressed down or not, she'll still thrash anyone who crosses her without batting an eye. Perhaps it has something to do with the strong lines of muscle revealed in her bare forearms, crossed beneath her chest—or the thin, pale scar that disappears up into her sleeve on her left forearm. He wonders how far up it goes, and how she got it.

Plus, he'd teased her earlier, but for someone running on virtually no sleep, she looks remarkably unfrazzled, at least from a distance. Her posture betrays none of the fatigue she must be feeling.

An array of various weapons sits on the table of the stall she's standing in front of, and he sidles up to her and asks, "Thinking of getting a new pointy toy to wave around at me?"

Victoria starts, giving away her exhaustion; if she'd gotten any sleep, he's sure she would've noticed him the second he saw her.

"Of course not," she sniffs, one hand resting absently on the hilt of her sword. "I'd never replace Gingersnap."

They both pause, before Michael grins even as Victoria flushes red. Despite knowing that it's probably not good for his health and for keeping all of his limbs attached to his body, he can't help but ask, "You named your sword Gingersnap?"

"It's none of your business," she retorts, her face almost as red as her eyes; it's endearing, this human side within the Knight's utilitarian armor.

"Your secret is safe with me," he assures, filing the information away. As her ruby eyes glint dangerously, he decides that it's time to change the topic and gestures at her bags. "So how many of the things on Elizabeth's list have you found?"

Now properly distracted, she fumbles with the bags, and he quickly takes some of them, their hands brushing briefly. Hers are just as calloused as his are, attesting to the number of years she must've spent practicing her craft—a craft that she was and probably still is intent on using to arrest him, he quickly reminds himself.

"I've got most of everything that isn't fresh produce," she says, showing him the list. "I thought we should leave those for last—that way, we'll lessen the risk of damaging them by toting them all over the place."

"Good thinking." He wonders if she, like him, is accustomed to travelling in the direction of trouble. "So what's all this?" he asks, peering inside some of the bags he's holding. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't believe she asked for…nails, glue, and assorted pieces of wood?"

Victoria shrugs, starting to move away from the weapons table. "Well, since we're more or less freeloading at the shop and using it as a base of operations, I thought the least we could do is help her fix it up. Obviously there's nothing we can do about the alchemy table ourselves, but the other furniture and such should be doable. We won't be out and about all the time, and even once Kaidan recovers, he won't exactly be able to leave the shop, so he can make himself useful, too."

Michael feels a genuine smile tugging at his lips. While Victoria is, in many ways, exactly like most other Knights he's had the misfortune of running into on his travels, she is nothing like some who fancy themselves heroes for the glory and the bragging rights, nothing more. Her stiff righteousness comes from a place of truly wanting to help people.

Still, her methods leave more than a little to be desired. After all, Knights have never seen rogue magi as people.

"Do you know anything about repairing or building furniture?" he asks. "Or woodworking in general?"

"I do, actually," she replies archly. "I've had to help repair more than a few small towns and villages in my career. I may not be an expert carpenter, but I have enough experience for this much."

He raises his eyebrows, a bit impressed despite himself. It's not exactly typical of Knights to get their hands dirty with grunt work. "Fantastic. I'm sure Elizabeth will appreciate the thought."

Imagine his surprise when this draws a tiny flicker of a smile from Victoria, fleeting and gone as soon as it came, but unmistakably there, in that moment and in his memory as one of many firsts. Sometimes, it's easy to read her like an open book of rules and regulations, with perfect margins, pages pressed clean and flat, and letters spaced with the eye-watering precision of a typewriter. Other times, he can only guess as to what's going on in her head.

They fall into an almost companionable routine, finding various market stalls, selecting the best-looking produce, and bargaining with the vendors. Brook's advice on how to bargain with each of the local vendors comes in handy. Victoria quickly grows impatient with the haggling, though.

"Price isn't an issue—Alethea will reimburse me for mission related expenses," she points out.

"But haggling itself is where all the fun is!" Michael counters, hefting his bags with a grin. "Although I should've known better than to expect you to understand the meaning of fun, I suppose."

Ruby eyes roll to the heavens, but whatever retort she had planned is interrupted by a small, shrieking body hurtling right into her from behind. Without thinking, he throws out an arm to catch her, but she pivots neatly with hardly a stumble and without spilling a single item, save for her coat tumbling from the crook of her arm to the ground.

A leather ball comes bouncing to a stop by Michael's feet as the child looks up with wide, guilty eyes. In the corner of his eye, he sees Victoria's hand go to her pocket immediately to check for her wallet, her eyes flashing with suspicion and anger, but like him, she quickly arrives to the conclusion that this child isn't trying to pick her pocket.

"Sorry, ma'am!" he squeaks out, scrambling to his feet. "I-I really didn't mean to run into you like that, I swear!"

"It's fine. Just watch where you're going, kid," she says gruffly, bending down to pick up her coat.

Michael, realizing he's still holding his arm out uselessly, drops it and nudges the ball back over with his foot. "This is yours, I presume?"

But the child shows absolutely no interest in him or the ball, instead staring with wide eyes at Victoria's coat—rather, the insignia of the Knights visible on the collar—before turning his attention to the sword she wears at her hip.

"Are you a Knight?" he asks with enough awe in his voice that one would think Victoria had put the sun in the sky.

Surprise flickers across Victoria's face. "Yes, I am."

Some of the kid's friends run up to him, and he explains excitedly, "She's a real Knight!" With a gap-toothed grin, he declares, "I wanna be just like you when I grow up!"

As the kids start to pepper her with eager questions, Michael watches, intrigued, as a myriad of emotions plays out across the typically surly and reserved Knight's face—nostalgia, regret, sadness, and guilt amongst them. Her fingers curl around the hilt of her sword as if seizing a lifeline of safety. The pride that he'd expected is nowhere to be found; instead, bitterness takes its place in her ruby eyes.

Growing worried that she might snap at the children, Michael tries to step in. "Sorry to interrupt, but we've got to be off, and-"

With a few thumps, Victoria sets down her bags and sinks gingerly to one knee before the children with a quiet grunt. He can hear her knees pop as she gets down on their level.

"I won't lie," she says slowly, her soft, thoughtful tone sounding nothing like the sharp edges she uses with Michael and the others, "it's a difficult job. It's a lot of training, a lot of repetition in that training, and a lot of learning things that have nothing to do with swinging a sword around. And it's dangerous. I've lost a lot of good friends who just wanted to do the right thing and help other people, because that's our job—we uphold the law and protect the people living under it."

At this, her gaze flickers up to Michael for a half second before she continues.

"As a Knight, a lot of people trust me to keep them safe when they see this-" She taps the insignia on her jacket collar. "-just like you did. And I have to be worthy of that trust."

In those words, the weight of the fatigue she's been carrying all morning, and the responsibility that she's been shouldering even before that, could not be more evident.

"We put ourselves second and the people we're protecting first. Sometimes…" Shadows dull her eyes. "Sometimes, that means making difficult decisions that don't align with what you want…or following orders you don't necessarily agree with."

Again, she glances at Michael, as if daring him to interject with a smart comment, but interrupting now is the last thing on his mind.

One of the kids, a young girl with long black hair just like Victoria, asks, "Do you like being a Knight?"

This seems to give Victoria pause. The children are quiet as she contemplates that; Michael echoes their silence, wanting to hear more, just like them, captivated by Victoria's solemn and almost gentle tone.

"It can be rewarding," she says finally, "knowing that I'm helping people. And I like having a purpose. Something that I know that I am. When things don't make sense…I know my job is to help people. It gives me a guideline. And to be honest, one thing I do appreciate about my job is that…" For the third time, she looks up at Michael, holding his gaze this time as she says carefully, "Even if my allies are ones that I didn't expect to have, I'm rarely fighting alone."

The children soon bid them goodbye, kicking their ball back across the market square and getting underfoot of other people. Victoria watches them go, a strange, pensive look playing out across her face. It's fascinating, and Michael could watch her thoughts run like this for hours and hours, but alas, they do have places to be.

"Are you planning to stay down there all day?" he asks teasingly, holding out a hand.

That hits the switch, and she glowers up at him again, all traces of sentiment gone. With an irritated groan, she ignores his proffered hand and pushes herself to her feet; her knees pop again, and her hand comes up to rub her chest. He bends down to grab some of her bags, keeping an eye on her.

"Let's head back to the shop," he suggests, and she agrees with a silent, tired nod.

The commotion of the crowd eases away as they leave the market, and Michael watches her visibly relax once they're away from big groups of people.

"I didn't think you'd be good with kids," he comments.

She shoots a suspiciously surprised look at him. "I'm not."

"Did you not see how they were hanging onto your every word?" he asks, amused. "Kids like adults who are honest with them. Although I guess it helps that you dropped your scary face for them." Her glare returns, and he nods cheerfully. "That's the one."

"You're insufferable."

"It's one of my many attractive traits." With repeated exposure, he thinks her glare is growing less and less effective. "So what's the plan for the rest of today?"

She runs one hand through her ponytail, pulling a few strands away from her skin idly, and sighs. "Depends on what everyone else has been up to, I suppose, but I think we'll try visiting the tavern later tonight."

"So, my idea," he adds, unable to resist, and receives another glare for his troubles.

"Yes, your idea," she agrees reluctantly, "seeing as we have few other leads right now. And once night falls, I'll do some more reconnaissance at the mansion."

With a startled laugh, he replies, "Are you incapable of relaxing? You're exhausted, even if you're trying to fool yourself otherwise. It'll be more risky than beneficial to go there again tonight when you can't even bend down without your knees sounding like firecrackers." Before she can snap back at him, he suggests, "Why don't we start working on fixing the shop when we get back from the tavern, if you're so desperate to be productive?"

He can practically see the struggle going on in her head; it's written all over her face, the need to do more and cast aside her self perceived weakness warring with the need for rest. After hearing her talk to those children, though, it's easier to understand where that obsessive drive comes from.

"I have to be worthy of that trust."

Truth be told, despite how obviously that burden weighs on her conscience, he can't help but be a tiny bit envious. It feels like so long ago now that he had his lofty goal to change the world all by himself. Now, after years of wandering the roads with no destination in mind, sometimes he just wants to know where he's going, the way that Victoria does.

"Fine," she sighs, startling him out of his musings. She squeezes her eyes shut before forcing them back open, blinking rapidly. "Come on. The shop shouldn't be far."

They're back within the next ten minutes, neither of them saying another word to each other. Peering in through the window, Michael can tell that Morgan and Mime did some cleaning earlier; the shop looks less like a disaster zone with each day.

He and Victoria let themselves through the front area of the shop. In the back of the shop, a lot of the furniture that was broken beyond repair has been removed, leaving the room depressingly empty. Items that were once stored in cabinets and on shelves have been organized in piles either on the floor or on mostly whole tables.

Morgan and Mime are sitting on the floor, fiddling with the locket with bundles of herbs and flowers scattered around them and referencing a thick tome of sorts. Watching them curiously is Kaidan, the tall young man sitting quietly nearby, his magic markings glowing faintly. The alchemist and the spirit chime in with "Welcome back"s, and Kaidan nods in greeting.

Elizabeth stands at one of the still intact bookshelves, leafing through an old, unlabelled notebook, which she quickly closes upon their arrival.

"You're back. Thank you for doing that. I trust it went smoothly?" she asks, reaching to take a few of the bags from them.

"Don't trouble yourself, just tell us where you want these," Michael says, smiling at the stern but kind alchemist. "And it was no trouble. We had fun roaming the streets. It's quite a nice town—beautiful with all of the flowers this time of year."

At Elizabeth's direction, they start putting away their purchases. She soon notices the woodworking items they'd bought as well, looking surprised.

"Are you thinking of building something for your…" She sighs. "...illegal activities?"

"They're for the shop," Michael reassures her. "Victoria thought we could help you fix it up while we're not out and about doing illegal activities."

Genuine surprise flickers across the alchemist's face. "Thank you. That's a kind thought." She smiles at them both and adds to Victoria, "I can see why Alethea seems so fond of you."

Victoria's tired eyes widen. She blushes, shifting her feet in place and ducking her head. "It's the least we can do."

"I appreciate it, dear. Now," Elizabeth continues in a gentle but firm tone, "why don't you both take a nap? You won't be of much use to anyone running on fumes."

Michael agrees readily, surprised when Victoria doesn't argue either, even though it looks like she wants to. Perhaps the mention of her commander softened her up.

"Do either of you want a sleep potion?" Morgan asks, looking up at them from their seat on the floor. "I can make a weaker one if you're just taking a nap."

"I'm fine," Victoria demurs. "Save your reagents. Have you come up with anything that could help us in the raid?"

Morgan glances up at Elizabeth before saying, "Actually, Elizabeth gave me a recipe for an invisibility potion this morning." Victoria's eyebrows shoot up, her gaze flickering to Elizabeth as both she and Michael wonder why this alchemist has a recipe like that, but the older woman's face gives nothing away as Morgan rambles on, "Mime and I are working on the recipe theory to calculate how many turns we need, 'cause the ingredients are a little rarer and we don't want to waste them. The less turns we use, the more effective it'll be, because using more turns kind of dilutes the effect of the reagents, and…" They trail off sheepishly. "Well, you probably don't care about that. We're working on it, is what I'm trying to say."

Michael grins, glad to see that last night's events haven't dampened the young alchemist's spirits too much. Kaidan certainly seems to think it's fascinating, keeping quiet but listening with rapt attention.

"The goal is to make it last an hour for the six of us—well, five of you, and I'll have my own spell," Mime explains, sitting cross-legged next to Morgan. "We're gonna go visit Quinn in the afternoon and see what ingredients they have, if you two wanna come with, but if you'd rather take a break, that's totally-"

"I'm coming with you," Victoria says brusquely, moving towards the stairs. "Wake me up in an hour, please."

With that, she disappears up the stairs. Morgan watches her go with an uncertain look, then smiles at Michael apologetically.

"We're probably going to be making some noise down here, so you're welcome to use my room," they offer. "Second door on the right upstairs."

Michael thanks them and follows Victoria up. Too tired to examine Morgan's room to any detail, he kicks off his boots, collapses into bed, and falls asleep the moment his head hits the pillow.


Victoria: *sleeves rolled up* Michael: *subtly appreciates*

(I mean who wouldn't)