All idle moments end - it was so unfortunate.

Still, soon enough, an unconscious sort of idleness would be theirs… if Arthur was to be believed. They were heading to see Boggart, and he would surely let them stay the night within his domain.

That was a pretty thought to hang onto (a place to stay the night, not visiting a criminal).

Eyes shut, carried by the horse. Spirits shouldn't tire, but it seemed almost as if even Torrent yearned for sleep.

One spirit certainly didn't.

"... and I never thought he'd get the better of Arthur, but he was still quite frightening."

The knight watched the path vigilantly, and it would have been quite the serious sight if not for the flower that the jellyfish-girl had placed upon his helm. It glowed in the night, its petals apparent whenever he turned to see the moon.

"That was until he was asked about the food he was making!"

Slumped forward, the main thing keeping her from sleep - besides Aurelia - was the constant movement from being on horseback. Time and again the motion jolted her up, even as the horse had been slowed to a walk. Bumpy.

"..."

"Roderika? Are you listening?"

The jellyfish-girl floated along behind them.

"What? The… of course… Aurel… ia…"

Mumbling, demonstrating more that she didn't have it in her to listen.

"What did you say? Is something wrong?"

Even the knight seemed tired, from the way his voice dragged; sure, he was the one to sleep most recently, but it was only for a couple of short hours. All that kept him upright in the saddle was responsibility, or plain power of will.

Regardless, he wouldn't see himself asleep until the journey was made, and that much was clear. If only she were so capable.

"Nothing… nothing at all…"

Those hours when he'd napped were short, really, even as the already-sporadic conversation between herself and Melina died out. Aurelia helped to revive it then, and she proved a distraction from the utter silence now.

Words, indistinct whispers to him and simple noise to her. Even as she tried so very hard to listen in earnest, it was futile. Such was her tiredness.

Torrent's hooves displaced the water - there was water, she only noticed now. Her head slumped forward against Arthur's back, the cold cold surface of his cuirass, she saw it underfoot through fatigue-slimmed eyes. The moonlight reflected from it as it shifted.

The sea… it's so much like the sea, and the fog covering every bit of air, and it's around us…

It's the endless sea, and Torrent is quite a steadfast ship, and if I fell from his back, I would surely sink like a stone into the dark waters.

She was upon a vessel, sails billowing with the stormiest gusts; the winds cut straight through her clothing and made her wish to flee back into the quarters.

She was in an abyssal nothing, with darkness all around her; her eyes hadn't just closed of tiredness, she was sure, too sure. The nothing was peaceful, if only because the cold seemed to have fled with everything else.

She was…

"Roderika!"

… being poked by the tentacle of Aurelia, if the light jabbing upon her shoulder was any indication. The cold returned, and her eyes were cleared of their fog. The same could not be said for the lake, however.

"... hmm?"

Moonbeams cut a swathe through the fog and made clear the outline of a building; it was rather small, and the roof was sloped like any other.

Her vision turned downward, she saw that they were still upon the lake. However, as Arthur pulled the reins and Torrent finally came to an absolute stop, there was (mostly-)dry dirt. An enclave of non-watery ground was a welcome sight, though surprising.

"At last, at long last, we have arrived."

Roderika rubbed at her eyes and yawned silently after they'd both dismounted. The bottoms of her boots sunk ever-so-slightly into the dirt, which was damp and probably never wholly dry.

Looking up, the moon was farther across the sky than earlier, even though it felt only a blurry moment. Had she fallen asleep? On horseback? Surely she would have fallen down if so.

Still, while she looked around and got her bearings, she didn't quite feel like questioning it further. Pure luck had kept her up, or perhaps a firm grip of Arthur's torso. Neither? Both?

This thing in front of her, this building, was partly of wood and partly of stone. Its roof, sloped and wooden, could hardly be considered to meet imperial architectural standards.

Water overtook the solid ground perhaps ten feet away from its bounds in every way. This was a fortress of dirt all around an army of calf-high lakewater.

The knight Arthur outstretched his arms, kicked his feet out as they no longer sat in the stirrups. The spurs upon his sabatons' heels raked up dirt into their points. It was of no concern, because he seemed content to have finished the night's journey at all.

"Ahh…"

Surrounding all but this little stretch upon which they stood was the fog. The stars, at least, were rather clear tonight - they twinkled and burned with countless human dreams, though she was in much less of a state to philosophize at the moment.

"... I hate to ask again… but… where are we?"

"We are here to see Boggart. This is his shack."

The criminal living in a… shack. She figured he would have been somewhere other than an actual dwelling. Either way, it was by her estimates unimpressive.

"I see. It's rather… quaint."

"Indeed. I like it, as well."

Well, I never said 'like'...

Maybe ugly, even. At least its integrity weren't so compromised as that of the shack upon Stormhill.

By the steps that ended at a wooden door, there was a metal contraption. A cauldron, it seemed; on its underside platform rested the charred remains of some kindling or other. Nothing within the bowl itself.

"Thank you, Aurelia, for holding her up."

She caught the interaction between the knight and Aurelia, who still lingered beside them. The radiance that came from her nature lit a dark, fog-covered night in a way torches might not.

"Of course! I would hate to see her fall."

Being left to speculate as to the reply, he turned to Roderika.

"You fell asleep for a time, and nearly fell off of Torrent entirely."

"Yes, I gathered as much."

"It was quite interesting to hear your mumblings of the water and the sea. You should like Liurnia… so long as you manage not to become unhorsed."

Torrent neighed, though even she couldn't understand his speech, let alone translate.

"That's good. Shouldn't w-"

The shack door slammed open, bashing against a wooden beam harshly. She half-jumped out of her skin.

A man in unseemly, ragged clothes stormed out. He looked like a lowly criminal. Many would assume time in prison to weaken a man, thin him out, but he was built rather strongly. Far stronger than her, at least.

He wore a metal helm, and his bare feet stomped against the steps as he approached - without even thinking, she stepped backwards. For some foolish reason, Arthur and Aurelia remained in place.

"Where are you going? Don't you want to meet Boggart?"

"Aurelia, come here!"

A frantic request ignored.

"Ah, there he is."

His helm reflected moonlight from its surface and as he got closer its features became apparent. It was a mask.

There was a hole where one's mouth ought to be, thin as it was, and a pronounced 'nose' that was more like a flap of metal. This mask was rusted at its far edges, and a tiny shiver grew into a larger one as she got a proper look at him.

Through the slots for eyes she could see a pair of two blue eyes in a scowl. Even when they were rather obscured by shadow and the iron mask, they were frightening; maybe the sight of only these false facial features lent them their menacing nature.

"What's all this? The hell do ya want? I'm tryin' to sleep. You want to start something?"

The voice that came out was deep. It was the opposite of friendly, mutually exclusive with the concept of a soothing sound. WIth a proper yell, perhaps the force of it could crush her skull in.

He rapidly closed the distance, and her feet did what made sense - back away even further. The shadows covered his eyes now, and the mask looked as though it were empty, filled by nothing but a void. She could only look on with a fearful gaze, her own eyes widened.

It wasn't until the angry man stopped right in front of Arthur that she realized he wasn't even approaching or talking to her. Her fear didn't abate at all, despite knowing this.

"Perhaps I do. What if I do?"

The knight's arms were folded upon his chest, and he stood completely uncowed.

You… I… I can't believe what I'm hearing. Why are y-

"Who the hell are ya? Did that bitch put you up to this? Go and tell 'er that I don't 'ave that necklace. Figured she woulda had it by now anyway."

Such language shocked her ears, though she soon realized he wasn't speaking of her, and her agape mouth shut.

"So uncivilized. Do refrain from calling women such fou-"

"Piss off, 'r else I'll put my boot up your ass. No, I'll break your 'ead in. You want to go back to that bitch with your teeth in your throat?"

Arthur didn't even hover his hand over the sword on his hip, like he were perfectly unthreatened. No aggression returned, no threats exchanged - what was he doing?

What absurdity, that he could find cause to do so in a tranquil patch of flowers but not while a criminal threatened to harm him and clearly intended to.

This couldn't be the person such a knight as him would seek out, let alone be on good terms with. Just unthinkable, it was.

"... and you."

He turned and pointed to Aurelia, who hovered idly beside the knight.

"Hel-"

Enthusiastically she waved with a tentacle, only for it to fall as he next spoke.

"Piss off, too."

If spirit-jellyfish could cry, and perhaps they could, she might do just that.

"Roderika, Boggart's being so rude! Why won't Arthur make him stop? He knows him!"

The woman, generally unwilling to involve herself in this, opened her mouth to protest…

"Alright, that is quite enough."

… only to be cut off by the authoritative tone of the knight.

At last there was something ignited in Arthur, an anger not for his own dignity but the girl's.

"You had best watch your mouth when you speak to her."

He leaned in a bit closer, all the while Roderika watched from a safe distance behind.

"Or what, chief?"

His fists were balled by his sides, as if he meant to punch the knight. Foolish, since all of his front side was covered in armor… except for a certain vulnerable spot. That would probably hurt, now that she considered it.

"You shall drink the wrath of Queen Marika."

"Says who?"

"Says I."

It was stated so matter-of-factly, like it should have been obvious.

A mocking chuckle echoed from within the mask.

"Think you're clever, do ya? Want a bloody laugh, you daisy-wearin' swine?"

The man kicked at Arthur's thigh, awkwardly striking the unarmored surface with his shin. Evidently it was meant to threaten, rather than harm; there was barely enough force behind it to kill a sick newborn, let alone the larger knight.

"Is this any way to treat a friend?"

"Friend? You ain't any friend of mine, so go an-"

"Ah, but I am. You know me, even if not deeply. Where do you know me from? Take a guess."

Exasperated sigh from the criminal.

"I ain't kiddin' around… so how about you piss off, 'fore I really let you 'ave it? Last chance."

"If you shan't guess it, then I suppose I must give it away."

Arthur's gauntlet-clad hands reached up slowly. However, instead of taking his flamberge by the hilt, he removed his helm.

"It has been quite some time, Boggart. Is the life of a shrimper treating you well?"

Immediately the strange man, dressed in ragged garb fit more to store potatoes than wear, loosened his posture. No use for clenched fists or a puffed-out chest, the latter of which was on full display through a conspicuous ravine-like tear in his shirt.

"Mate! You son-of-a-bitch."

Without a second thought, the two men greeted one another in a very bizarre and… brotherly way. It involved what was at the same time a slapping of palms and a handshake.

"My mother is no such thing… but did you miss me?"

The criminal's eyes returned to view, a beam of the moon's glow banishing shadows, and they were far friendlier. Even so, she couldn't see him in a new light.

"Why didn't ya just do that from the start? I thought you were some other prick that girl sent for 'er necklace."

The two parted, and from what she could see, Arthur was smiling. Perhaps he'd been smiling all along, deliberately prodding Boggart.

"Your false anger amused me. It is quite deceiving, given your true nature; a person could get the wrong impression."

"Funny one, ain'tcha? Didn't recognize ya in… all that there. I was expecting to see that stupid dragon 'elmet when ya came around for some prawn again."

A tentacle jabbed towards Boggart, though it was left ignored.

"His dragon helmet isn't stupid!"

"I suppose that we have some catching up to do. Do you mind if we come inside?"

"Not at all, mate."

Without a care or trouble he turned around and walked through the open door that he'd, not long prior, slammed open.

"Thank you."

The knight turned back to see Roderika, gesturing towards himself.

"Come along… unless it is your wish to spend the night outside."

"Of course."

Her voice had a sort of timidity that he definitely noticed.

"You, too, Aurelia."

After a moment presumably sulking away the last of her angst at being told to 'piss off', the jellyfish-girl was back to bouncing with more liveliness than even the two of them. Irrepressible energy, precious. She said something in response, but Roderika wasn't quite listening.

Her feet stepped closer and closer to the shack, and during this approach she saw through the doorway a faint glow of moonlight.

That moonlight made it in primarily through the cracks of a window near the door, owing to its shutters' shoddy wooden construction. It was faint, indeed, and there was mostly darkness inside. It wasn't a pitch blackness, and from her spot outside she could discern at least the outlines of various objects within.

Everybody else having proceeded in, at last she crossed through that doorway, closing it behind her. Aurelia's own spiritual glow lit up a radius around her, and it was a welcome thing.

She followed, and it wasn't long until her foot collided with a metal object on the floor.

"Ah!"

Taking her gaze downward, it looked like some metal kitchen object or other.

"Ah, be careful. Still got some cleaning to do… I wasn't expecting company."

The almost-cadent repetition of leather boots against a stone floor, and the irregular metal shuffling of sabatons.

"It's bloody dark in 'ere. I'll get me lantern, and we can 'ave ourselves a proper talk. Go on, make yourselves at 'ome. Some chairs over there."

As he gestured vaguely to the nearest corner of the room, his… interesting manner of speech wasn't lost on her.

"A good idea. Well, you heard the fellow."

The Hold would be preferable to making a 'home' of this shanty. Either way, she wasn't going to just return there, so it was… bearable.

Boggart strode off into the darkness from whence he came, and a noise that sounded like rapid stairs-stepping could be heard.

"I'm going to help him find the lantern."

It was more of a concern to find a place to sit than to prevent such. If Arthur trusted him, surely it was enough for her. She thus did nothing as Aurelia wandered off to follow the criminal.

Seeking the chair through slow movement, Roderika saw no such thing from the knight. He walked with faith, even as a long journey weighed on his back. After a moment, by a wooden table, they found those chairs and sat opposite to one another.

Her stomach grumbled quietly, hoping perhaps for some of Boggart's oh-so-vaunted shrimp.

It was difficult to imagine somebody like that being skilled in cooking - at first glance she'd think him suited more to stealing jewelry from women - but it wasn't much of a concern in comparison to the way her eyelids filled with stones and went down like they were in a river.

"Tired, are you?"

Being spoken to made her eyes open and brought the realization that she'd begun to rest her head upon her hand. The palm of her glove cradled her cheek, all while her fingers pushed into the blonde hair that fell across her brow.

"... yes."

Arthur set upon the table his gauntlets and helm; the cerulean bloom still decorated the latter, and it was a vibrant sight in the scarcely-lit room. As he replied, he nodded sluggishly.

"As am I. … but have no worries, I am sure that Boggart will let us spend the night here."

Living on a night-to-night basis wasn't quite appealing when she and her fallen companions had made the journey inland, slumbering in the wilderness… and that hadn't changed.

"... what will we do after that?"

His fingers took a hold of his chin as he thought.

"To be quite honest, I hardly considered what I would do after you came along with me. I suppose I had best plan a proper route for when we depart."

"That would be best. You see grace, though… and so you have your quest, don't you?"

A smile took his face.

"How could I ever forget it? Ah, but I suppose I have, for these recent days have been spent on the mend. Back to knightly affairs, I go. The journey means nothing without the destination, and vice versa."

"Speaking of that… how have your wounds been today? Returning to the journey hasn't opened them once more, has it?"

The smile only grew.

"Of course not. I am in perfect health."

One eyebrow of hers was raised.

"You say that, when only days ago you were hardly able to walk without pain."

"All of that is past. Trust me, I have had worse."

"If you say so… but do try not to become wounded again."

"I shall."

A silence began, countered only by noises of rummaging from the upper floor.

"Where's that damn lantern… ah, what're you doin' up here?"

"It's quite… cluttered in here. Why?"

They were the sole sound in a deep, dark night.

"..."

The knight's arms folded upon the table and - with the iron vambraces upon his wrists - became quite a cold pillow for his head.

"..."

It was not long before the noise of fumbling from right above their heads grew louder. Roderika's head still leaned against her hand, Arthur's staring off into the darkness and rested on his arms.

"Don't touch that! I still 'aven't finished putting up th-"

"I found it!"

Metal scraping against itself. A multitude of clattering, simultaneous metal impacts against the floor. A groan of pain.

"Agh! Goddammit! Shit!"

The two of them looked up to the ceiling, their eyes half-open but growing more alert as the moment went on.

"They must be having quite the joyous time up there."

The noise of a person repeatedly hopping on the floor.

"Shit! Dammit! Bloody… dammit!"

"It doesn't sound like it."

Just then, the corners of their vision caught Aurelia floating down the stairs and then across the room, meeting them by the table.

"He didn't need help finding the lantern."

"Ah. Well… I'm sure he appreciated it nonetheless."

The cursing continued, although it grew hushed and lessened considerably.

"Is all well, Boggart?", the knight yelled out.

The sound of metal being picked up, moved around and set down preceded the response.

"Just a minute, mate!"

Arthur couldn't help but smile, imagining just what transpired.

After some waiting in silence, their gracious host hobbled down the stairs, clearly putting less weight on one foot than the other. In his hands was a lantern, and it brought much light to the room.

"Well, that took a bit. You must have had quite the mess up there."

The criminal came to stand next to the jellyfish-girl, and he looked at her for a moment, his expression unreadable thanks to the iron mask.

"Ah, you don't know the half of it."

He shook his head and sighed.

"Spring cleanin' is more trouble than it's worth, honestly. Anyway, how in the hell 'ave ya been?"

Next he set down the lantern on the table. It burned brightly with (far-past-)midnight oil.

"Good, I have been good."

He turned to look at Roderika. As tired as she was, her body hadn't slumped in exhaustion just yet.

"No… I have been great.", he amended as he turned to face Boggart once more.

"I didn't get around to asking before, but… who's the girl? … and… this 'ere?"

His hand switched between pointing a finger at her and Aurelia.

"This… is Roderika."

Beyond a quiet "hello", a brief nod was the furthest extent of her response.

"That is Au-"

"Hold on… did I 'ear that right, mate?"

A nod.

"Yes, you did. Boggart, meet Roderika."

The woman could scarcely see it through the mouth-hole of his mask, but Boggart's smile morphed into a different kind. If asked to describe it, she likely couldn't put it into words, though.

"I wasn't expecting you to actually bring 'er 'round for some of me prawn."

"Well, it would be a disservice to her if I'd not."

The criminal directed his cold iron gaze directly into her eyes. She looked up with uncertainty.

"So… you're the girl he was all lovey-dovey over when 'e was 'round here last."

She wasn't quite sure how to respond, so she didn't. The knight, however, jolted upright in his seat. It was as if he were suddenly made alert to the largest possible degree; he then alternated between looking at Boggart and Roderika, finally settling on the former.

"Yeah, you shoulda 'eard 'im. 'Oh, and then she kissed me, and I was so happ-"

Doing his best Arthur impression, he wasn't exactly up to standard. In-between words he produced noises that best resembled amorous oral lovemaking.

At last the knight acted, hitting the man's shoulder with the back of his hand. He moved so suddenly and with such speed that it surprised her.

"Boggart, not in front of her! She might think me to be some idiot out of a romantic book, or something akin to it! You are embarrassing me in front of the princess!"

Beneath the cold mask of iron, the blackguard's eyes shot open. He pointed a finger at her, looking back and forth between the knight and the woman.

"Wait, she's a… you mean… mate, are you jokin'?"

A shake of the head confirmed it.

"Shit, maybe you are an idiot out of a book… not that I read those. This is rich, chief… a tough-as-shit maiden-helping knight and a dainty little princess. I can 'ardly believe it. It warms me black heart."

It only added to the embarrassment of it when Roderika giggled with each use of the word 'shit'. Her apprehension (and, maybe, opposition to being deemed 'dainty') was overcome by the very funny word's unparalleled effect.

"Nice, mate… really. Lucky fellow, you are."

Even covering her mouth with her gloved hand, halfway-stifling the noise, it was obvious. She couldn't lie to herself, nor did she have any reason to… it was rather gratifying to hear of such talk on Arthur's end, even if it came to embarrass him now.

Yes, gratifying, that was a suitable word; that somebody would be so ecstatic over and taken with her… well…

"Do you see what you have done, Boggart? Now she thinks I am like some flower-crown-making peasant girl bleating over some attractive nobleman, or whatever they do. Fine work, 'mate', fine work."

"Ah, quit cryin' over it. She knows you like 'er anyway, don't she? I'd think she knew it, if she let you stick your tongue down 'er throat."

This put an end to the amusement. Both the knight and the maiden let out horrified, scandalized gasps with eyes as wide as they could humanly be.

"Boggart!"

"We- you- wh-"

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

The criminal had the absolute nerve to appear surprised at this response.

"No, it is not! Chastity is a firmly-upheld virtue betwixt us, and… gods, you are such a vulgar fool! Stop speaking like that. She is a proper lady - a princess - and you had best behave yourself while we are here. Roderika, I apologize on his behalf. I forgot just how vulgar…"

Arthur glared accusingly at him before turning back to the woman.

"... he can be."

The absolute horror of the statement hadn't faded as the moment went on, and it showed in the redness of her face. She could not recall anything so utterly crude being said to her, not within recent or distant memory. That only served to heighten the impact.

"Arthur, I'm fine… but you still shouldn't say such things, because…"

She gestured towards Aurelia, who waved with a tentacle as the criminal turned to look at her again.

"... she's listening."

"Should I not be?"

"No, you're fine, Aurelia. Don't worry."

"Oh, right, her. There is a child present, as well, Boggart. Keep that in mind before you continue speaking in such a foul way."

The jellyfish-girl's shade, a purple-blue glow, took on a hint of full red; though Arthur quite evidently took note of this change, he neither seemed to understand it nor prioritize it.

"I'm not a child! I'm thirteen!"

With this, Boggart looked around the room. It could be said that he was… boggled.

"Indeed, I should hope you do not ordinarily speak this way around your adolescent guests."

"... what the fuck are you talking about? There ain't a kid in here… and what's that word mean, 'addalessoned'?"

"Don't call me that! I'm not an adolescent! I'm thirteen!"

In unison, the two displeased travellers pointed to Aurelia.

"The… what the fuck is that supposed to mean? That pointing?"

"Firstly, stop cursing so much, and secondly… stop saying that word! She - Aurelia right there, her, the one who we are both pointing at - is just a child! Her virgin ears shan't be subjected to such hellish language as that, nevermind the fact that you have sullied the good dignity of Roderika with your crude comment!"

"Arthur! I'm not a child!"

This was entirely ignoring the crucial fact that jellyfish do not have ears.

"Aurelia… just leave this to Arthur, alright?"

She returned to her ordinary state, the tinges of red fading as suddenly as they overtook her…

"Mate, are ya daft? That's a fucking jellyfish."

… until being referred to in such dismissive terms. Even as young and ill-travelled as she was in life, she knew that word was impolite.

A groan from the knight came out.

"Keep your mouth shut if you plan to keep using that word around her. I have told you already not t-"

"What word?"

"What word? That foul, uncouth and unkind word, Boggart, that is what word!"

"That's right!"

After huffing in solidarity with the knight, Aurelia jabbed the criminal in the side with a tentacle, though it was much more like a poke than a genuine attack. Regardless, he slapped that tentacle away and disregarded her.

"Don't ignore me!"

Roderika's face fell into her hands. She sighed.

She was too tired for this.

"Well, what's so wrong with that? I think that's a good word, don't you?"

"What do you think?"

"I just told ya what I think, mate."

"..."

A prolonged silence intervened. Arthur looked unflinchingly into the eyes of Boggart.

"... I could kill you. I really could. Do you know that, 'mate'?"

Roderika looked up, her attention certainly gotten by Arthur's threat. She looked on with worry as the criminal stepped closer and focused his stare on the knight. It was a stare that could burn a hole through iron, the same menacing one that she'd seen earlier.

"Is that so, mate?"

The knight's hand at last hovered over the arming sword upon his hip. His expression became something utterly unrecognizable to Roderika.

"..."

The menacing gaze of Boggart seemingly broke like a wave against rocky spires.

Pulled three inches out of the sheath, the sword's movement was loud as a cannon, for all else was silent. Even the noises of the lake outside had seemingly been drowned out.

"Have you any idea what I wished to do to you on that day we first met, as I heard you mock the girl you robbed? I do not take kindly to thieves, Boggart. I should take off a hand for that crime. With which do you write?"

Roderika looked on with shock, and struggled to connect such a threat as dismemberment to the same man who had been so tender in comforting her before.

"Alright, mate... I don't know what you're playin' at, but…"

The criminal's breaths grew a bit unsteady, and his voice was unsure, deeply so.

"..."

"..."

Arthur's face was leaden, devoid of the mirth she had so come to appreciate in him…

"..."

"..."

… or so it seemed.

The knight began laughing, as if he had been told the funniest joke of the year. He took his hand off the sword and instead slapped it upon his knee.

Roderika, witnessing this, was nearly as baffled as the criminal; the latter stood with wide eyes.

"Did I get you?"

It was some time before Boggart got to laughing, as well.

"God, you're a real son-of-a-bitch, aren't ya? Get the hell out of here. Get out, mate."

"I believe I got you, Boggart. Were you shaking? I could hear you trembling beneath that mask, I know I could."

"Ah, come on, mate. Ya don't do that kinda thing like that. Bloody… unbelievable."

She released a breath she didn't even know herself to hold, and she settled in her seat. The faintest little hints of a smile developed on her mouth, too, even as she could scarcely keep up with the situation.

Even Aurelia had come to laugh.

"Oh, Roderika, you should have seen him when we first met not long ago. 'Whas yer blinking prollem, mate?' … gods, it was funny. He thought I would truly kill him."

"I did, as well!"

"Nah, mate, you're lyin' to impress the missus."

Arthur raised an eyebrow ever-so-slightly.

"The 'missus'?"

"Yeah. That's just what you'd be in the kinda jails I've got myself into."

This remark was much to Roderika's confusion. Even after devoting mental capacity to the task, it was bizarre humor beyond her understanding.

"Very amusing."

"... and just so ya know, I don't scare for nothin'. Not some jumped-up knight like you, not even if Queen Marika brought 'erself down 'ere now."

A final laugh came from the knight, though his smile remained.

"Of course, of course. It would be rather funny if she were to, though, and she smote you down for your comment regarding her…"

The knight made vague hand movements upon the front of his chestplate that, nonetheless, gave her a good idea as to his meaning.

"Yeah? Maybe you just got a twisted sense of humor."

I believe that I'm inclined to agree…

Smiles dimmed slightly - only slightly - as the moment passed, just like a fire after its brightest roaring seconds are over. The masked man looked to her and spoke again, his tone very polite compared to… everything she'd seen from him.

"Anyway, hello. Name's Boggart."

Even if it was rather unnecessary, in some way being greeted properly set her at ease further.

"Yes, um… greetings. Again."

Soon enough his attention returned to the conspicuously-radiant jellyfish floating next to him.

"So…"

He looked at her, clearly not knowing what to think.

"Why are you looking at me that way?"

Had she a face, she might have just returned a quizzical gaze; the transparent dome housing her tentacles instead looked at him vacantly.

"Is something amiss?"

"Yeah... just what's this?"

He jabbed a thumb towards the jellyfish-girl.

"I'm not a 'what'!"

"She is not a 'what'."

"As Arthur was saying earlier… this is Aurelia. She's a spirit jellyfish."

Nothing about his puzzled expression changed.

"... meaning?"

Roderika's gloved hands gesticulated without direction, perhaps groping for any sort of way to explain what she herself scarcely understood.

"Well… she's…"

"She is a child whose form is a spectral jellyfish… or something like that. Does this answer your question?"

In the silence that ensued, she could hear the gears turning within his head like those of a watermill. Silence, such a loud thing at times like these.

"So yer tellin' me that's… she's a kid… but also a jellyfish? Am I gettin' that right, mate?"

"Yes… but I'm not a child!", said Aurelia.

"Yes.", said Arthur.

"Yes.", said Roderika.

These confirmations came at just about the same time. Although nobody likes being referred to as a 'child' or such, Aurelia found some satisfaction in being called 'she' rather than 'that'. She'd take what she could get.

"How's that work? What, ya just… run around with 'er following you?"

"I have Roderika to thank for that. When we first met… she gave me a glass phial containing some ashes, and it was not until later that I realized just what they were."

The knight allowed a pause and looked to her.

"... yes, the ashes. I came across them… a fair time before we met, and even before I learned that I have a gift, I was able to communicate with her. It was rather frightening at first, to hear a voice without cause or form… but it was my only companionship for a terrible while."

Like a crack of thunder - over as soon as it arrived - there came a tiny tremble in her hand as she dug up what she had buried with finality.

"..."

The rather jovial expression on her face lost some of its levity; in its place a look tinged with somberness was. For all of her trying, in the end, she would always think back to Stormveil and the lost companions.

I don't want to remember their names or their faces or that this brooch upon my chest was covered in their blood from laying upon the heap of their mangled bodies and their hushed spirits still wrap themselves around it.

I don't want to think about it. Don't think about it. I've managed not to so far, so I can continue until it's all a year behind me, a decade, a lifetime…

I've set it behind me. I'm brave… I must be.

He's said so, and I know so.

"Indeed…"

Her gaze lingered on a random, nondescript spot of the table; it caught the attention of the knight, whose own eyes narrowed a bit with concern.

"What's the matter with 'er?"

Arthur, for all of his lacking perception at times, did not remain oblivious this time. Here, where it counted, he reached to the table's opposite half and laid his palm over the woman's knuckles. His fingers squeezed against her own fingers and palm, covered with leather as they were.

Fatigue's darkening circles below her eyes, prominent as they were, belied just how much she had seen. The green hue of her eyes was still unbroken, even so - she knew that nothing more could faze her, for she had overcome the worst. She had to have overcome it, or else she would be a starved wretch in a derelict shack. She would be a set of slender bones wrapped in royal silk.

People die or they live, stagger on and seek a new day after such a dark night. There could be no in-between… besides the arcane position of undeath. Death was always around her, ever since she stepped off of the ship and onto the beach.

"I think that this… is a conversation for another time."

I don't want to speak of this… not now or tomorrow or anytime soon.

I would rather think of where we're going.

Looking backwards only brings pain, and I feel like such a… a hypocrite after all I said.

Look back with 'hope'... but it's so much easier said than done.

If he didn't seem to be assuaged in his fears, in his memory of 'Irina'... I would think that I misled him, as I'm so lost and without guidance beyond the end of the day.

As much as he couldn't save that blind girl, a blind girl surely can't save him.

Roderika's head was being crushed in from all sides and crumbling by the bone until she blinked once more and knew just where she was. She was beyond all of the pain and the hurt. They both were. A journey lay ahead… and it would carry on in the morning. The sun that had avoided them, the hope of that journey, would meet them as it rose over the lake.

"..."

A yawn from her.

"For now, it would do us all good to get some rest, which brings me to the reason we ended up on your doorstep at this hour."

Her relief was immeasurable - they finally had reached the most important topic. She could only hope they wouldn't be turned away.

"Let me guess, ya want a place to spend the night?"

"You must be quite the predictor. Yes, we do. Worry not, for I have some runes if y-"

"Nah."

The knight raised an eyebrow once more, while she felt her hopes for shelter disintegrate.

"... 'nah'? What is 'nah'?"

"It means you can stay 'ere without payin' up. I ain't some petty bastard, least not enough to charge ya… not anymore."

Those hopes put themselves together again, as hopes oft do.

"How generous. … but what are you, then?"

She wondered herself. If Arthur was (mostly) an open book with legible handwriting, the criminal was perhaps a set of pages whose surfaces were blotted together from being pressed together before the ink dried.

"A changed man, mate. I'm goin' into the prawn business."

The knight's expression brightened, and he seemed joyous at the news.

"Truly?"

"Yeah. That's what all the noise up there was. Got all me kitchen essentials… but I ain't got 'em set up yet."

"Good. Great, Boggart. I figured you were better than that… 'that' being robbing unarmed women of their jewelry."

Roderika listened and let Arthur do the talking, finding the part about Boggart robbing women… interesting.

Of course, criminals don't become criminals just by external circumstances - they choose and act upon their selfishness, but then again, people could change. Surely, they could. She had.

"After I sold ya some of that prawn, I realized somethin'... maybe there's a market for that kinda stuff."

Unless the economy of Liurnia is a thriving thing, I don't believe that you would have many customers.

If it's anything like Limgrave, you would surely have better luck elsewhere.

"A market? Well, I've not seen any merchants around, excepting that fellow by the lake-shore."

"That ain't my meaning, but… met 'im, did ya? I got some cooking things from him just the other day. Bloody terrible bargainer, that one - sold me a nice twelve-piece set of iron pots and pans for nothin'."

"Is that so? I presume they were responsible for all of the, err… commotion upstairs?

The criminal looked towards Aurelia, who now was idle like Roderika. The girl tentatively waved once again. Though he still was unsure of what to think, a state betrayed only by his eyes, he nodded in acknowledgment.

"Most of it."

"..."

"Anyway, he said somethin' about a… 'lack of demand throwing off the economic equilibrium and forcing severe markdowns' or some piss like that. Didn't make much sense to me, and I didn't really care. Got a good deal."

"How shrewd of you."

Boggart laughed, and it was a rather mocking laugh.

"Almost felt bad for 'im… almost. If 'e keeps on like that, things might go tits up for 'im."

"I see that your vulgarity has not abated… but at least you did not rob him like you did Rya."

"I didn't rob 'er. I duped 'er. There's a difference, mate. She knew what she was gettin' into. Ain't my problem she went off cryin' to ya later."

Arthur shook his head; his expression was one of admonishment and moral superiority.

"Still running along that dangerous line of thinking, are we? That mentality will land you in trouble sometime. I would advise against it - no, I do advise against it."

"Ah, piss off, mate. I didn't ask for a sermon."

Indeed, the knight spoke with a voice that knew itself to be vindicated.

"Since when was basic morality equivalent to attending mass? You should consider yourself fortunate that I abode by such morals in obtaining her necklace."

Boggart, on the other hand, seemed to become frustrated… if only a bit for now.

"Only some jumped-up knight like you'd come into my place and start lecturin' me about what I do. You 'aven't got a bloody clue about me, mate, so forget it."

"Perhaps I do not, but no circumstance permits acting like a common thug or a brigand. What do you believe Her Eternal Majesty would think if she were to see her subjects acting like this? What if she already has?"

Soon that frustration shared a space with confusion.

"... who?"

"Her… Eternal Majesty. Queen Marika, the Sovereign Eternal."

"Well, what's so eternal 'bout 'er majesty?"

The knight looked at Boggart like he were, quite frankly, stupid.

"It is a form of respectful address, Boggart. She is not only the rightful queen but the graceful goddess of these lands. Her golden grace alone decides just who is to be king. No one but the worthy shal-"

"You're a bloody… I shoulda known you were one of those types."

Unsure of whether to take offense or save it for later, he raised an eyebrow.

"What are you insinuating? That I am a zealot?"

"Worse - a royalist."

"I am, yes. Exactly what is the issue with this? Every country needs a monarch, and Queen Marika seems to have been a proper one… before all was ruined by the scheme of the blue wench."

The criminal shook his head.

"You're fooling yourself, mate. We're livin' in a dictatorship, a self-perpetuating autocracy, in which the working classes are squeezed of their bare minimums to fund the excesses of the reigning elite."

"A… what? What is an 'autocracy'?"

"I can 'ardly trust you to understand after you've been consortin' with a princess. Given ya a taste of the high life, 'as she?"

"Boggart, in my homeland I am a nobleman - a rather low-ranking one, yes, but a nobleman nonetheless. Am I supposed to join you in spouting this treasonous peasant drivel?"

Boggart gave a mocking chuckle.

"Oh, what a bloody giveaway. That's some of that peasant hatred inherent in the system."

"I do not hate peasants, you fool. What in the world makes you think…"

As the knight turned to check on Roderika, he saw her slumped against the table, half-a-head of golden hair hanging off its edge. His hand still upon hers, she was properly asleep.

"... anyway, good talk, mate. I'm pretty tired. Think I'll head up to bed."

"As am I… and I think we've no need to inquire as to Roderika."

"You two're welcome to… figure somethin' out down here. Not much up there besides me own bed, 'less ya fancy pots for pillows."

"A generous offer, without question, but I believe we can fashion our own pillows. Thank you, Boggart."

Arthur rose from his seat and, as he approached the door leading outside, was followed by Boggart.

"I saw the girl had a nice brooch on 'er. That the one ya got for 'er in… what was it, Stormhell?"

"Stormveil… and it is. She mentioned it to me while she was in that shack, and she seemed quite fixated on it. It was only right."

Torrent remained where he was left, ever the loyal steed. Their provisions were untied from his saddle and brought into the shack, set upon the floor near the table.

"Maybe I'll nab it from 'er, like I got that necklace."

"That is not a very funny joke, Boggart."

Boggart started towards the stairs on the other side of the room, taking the lantern with him.

"..."

"... that was a joke, yes?"

"Be seein' ya in the morning, mate."