#also for the unaware val did her first bout of Paladin Magic so that's why she's lowkey freaking out lmao

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

POI - Strange Magic

A few days ago, doing our weekly trip to Disney, @colonelcupquake and I discussed a few things about our d&d kids, and about all the ways in which their growing relationship is...growing. This is what spawned from me thinking too much about what that meant.

Set in current game time, while the idiots are helping our resident monk through house arrest. 2,200 words.

If asked, Val wouldn’t have been able to count high enough to number all of the moments that made her miss her parents most.

There had been plenty in the early years - after selling the wagon, and then the horses, every time she had made her own coffee, Gavaar’s heavy silence on a long travel road - but the newer ones didn’t seem to dig any less deeply. Dandelions still made her sigh; the sight of Amon bent over his alchemist’s kit still made her heart clench just a little too hard.

And she knew, so bitterly that it hurt, that at least her father would have known exactly what to do with Rona Greenbottle.

He had left her some notion of it, of course. His telling - and frequent retellings, at a younger Val’s incessent requests - of how he had met her mother carried the notes of romance so thickly that even she couldn’t have missed them. But Cairon Hillcrest had also been one of the lucky sort who hadn’t made himself the company of his lady love for the better part of a year, who didn’t spend a harrowingly frequent amount of that time dragging her into danger, and who had at least had the fucking decency to know more about her than her name, and her strength, and the bright, sunshine sweetness that had captured his attention in the first place.

Val glaced up over the top of the book she was not reading to where Rona was settled on the floor of their collective room, pawing through the pile of satchels around her with the keen slowness of someone who knew exactly what she was looking for. She pulled a tough looking stalk as thick as two fingers from one, and Val watched, enthralled, as she deftly slashed it open and stuffed a coffee bean inside.

Her staring must have been the weighty sort, because after a moment, Rona’s mouth curled into a smile.

“Yes?” she said without looking up. Val instinctively tucked back into her book, feeling a rush of heat up her neck.

“Nothing,” she said automatically. She stole a glance around her book’s edge and found Rona looking back out of the corner of her eye, grinning. The heat on her neck grew warmer. “I just, ah...I was just wondering what you were doing.”

“Just that?” Rona asked, with a pointed raise of an eyebrow. Val huffed.

“Well, I won’t say that I terribly mind the view either.”

Rona hummed in acknowledgment and turned back to her work, but Val noticed with a tiny thrill of delight that her cheeks had a much rosier tinge.

“They’re for spells,” Rona said at least. Her fingers worked carefully, now winding a thin piece of twine studded with apple seeds around a length of thorny vine. “You’ve seen me using them before, haven’t you?”

“Here and again,” said Val, as she set her book aside. No use hiding behind it now; and besides, she had only caught as much of Rona’s casting as the corner of her eye allowed. With her own recent foray into magic, it seemed of dire importance that she actually try to listen.

Not to mention that Rona seemed rather pleased at the attention; she straightened as Val leaned forward, and shifted to face her.

“I decided that I should start prepping some of my components early,” she said, nodding towards the vine clipping that she was turning over in her hands. “I used to do most of these on the fly, but I figure now that I’ve got to try to keep up with you, and Tara, and Amon…”

“Mostly him, I'm sure,” Val said with a wry smile. “I’ve just taken to making sure the red blur is still moving instead of trying to keep track of him.”

“Well, I'd still rather be fast enough that I don’t catch him in this.”

With one swift motion, Rona suddenly wrenched a hand sideways and tugged the vine taught around her palm, so tightly that Val could see the thorns digging little dents into the meat of it. A soft green glow began to pulse from between her fingers, coiling down the length of the vine, and before she could blink, Val suddenly found herself in the center of a mass of woody tendrils creeping over the edge of the bed towards her.

“Don't worry,” said Rona when Val instinctively scrambled back. She waved a hand, and the vines suddenly curled away like a receding wave, and then crumbled to dust. “I don't use those on people I like if I can help it. You know, unless they want me to.”

She winked at that, and grinned, and the heat that had started to fade on Val’s neck suddenly came roaring back to life. She managed to keep her face carefully neutral as she tucked that particular thought away for later perusal.

“So, that’s, uh, that’s how your magic works, is it?” she said after a moment, coughing delicately to disguise the hitch in her voice. “You just sort of stick things together and - ”

“Not quite.” The little laugh in Rona's voice staggered as she cut Val off, just a touch too sharply to be casual. “It’s a little more involved than that, actually.”

Frowning, Val stole a glance down, and the peculiar tightness at the corners of Rona’s smile suddenly brought the memory of the conversation in the mine - with Sarula’s arms still wrapped around Rona’s weary shoulders and a too-casual shrug from Ianry - screaming back like a train car.

“Oh, Rona,” she said softly. Rona didn’t look up, just pursed her lips and stared fixedly at the floor. “Rona, love, you know I don’t think that’s all you do, right? Look, I might be an idiot, but even I know it takes work to pull miracles out of your ass on a regular basis. I just don’t understand the shape of it, hey? And I...” She hesitated. “And I would like to, if you can stand a few more stupid questions.”

Rona said nothing for a long moment, turning the vine absently in one hand. Then she sighed, and wilted like a breath suddenly exhaled.

“I know,” she said softly. “Sorry. Here, come sit with me.”

Val thanked Fharlanghn later for the distinct lack of witnesses to the way she nearly fell over herself getting off of the bed, and Rona, for her part, kindly avoided snickering.

“It’s not miracles so much as knowing what you’re trying to do,” she said once Val had settled across from her, hands folded in her lap like an attentive school child. She twirled the vine in her hand so it arched over her knuckles and held it out, gesturing to the tiny auburn seeds still tangled in twine around its surface. “Seeds are a plant’s life: they’re the first thing it needs to grow. So if I want vines to suddenly start growing out of the ground, and to wrap themselves around someone...”

She slowly threaded the vine back around her palm and made a big show of pulling it taught. Val hummed.

“It’s like a tether, then,” she said, with tentative understanding. “It sort of...makes a path from you to what you’re trying to control, yeah?”

“Exactly,” said Rona, and Val warmed at the brightness in her smile. “The components of a spell are just the vessel that you pour your intent into. That’s what makes magic happen. Not just ‘sticking things together.’”

She shot Val a pointed look, and nudged her playfully with a toe when she winced.

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” Val grumbled, making a big show of huffing and folding her arms. “I don’t even know what I’m doing, much less anyone else. I wasn’t born with magic.”

“I wasn’t either,” said Rona. Val raised an eyebrow. “What? Most people aren’t. Some of us give up everything just to learn.”

The current of heat burning under the last few words was difficult to miss, as was the way Rona’s eyes strayed to the door that Ianry had left through barely ten minutes prior. Val said nothing for a long moment, then slowly shifted closer.

“Everything, huh?” she asked. Rona’s shoulders sagged.

“My family didn’t exactly approve of the whole ‘running off to go play with magic plants’ business,” she said quietly. “And once I decided to go after my mentor…”

She trailed off, shrugging, and Val found that she could only nod. The few words of comfort she had suddenly felt achingly hollow in her ears; how could she even pretend that she understood losing a family that way, which left behind a looming shadow of unknowns that only grew with distance? She thought of her father, and all of the moments she had spent missing him, and she held them tighter still.

Eventually though, after a long muster of silence, Val rolled onto her knees, pushed some of the satchels aside, and shuffled over to where Rona was leaned against the wall. She only hesitated a moment before pressing an arm against hers.

“I don’t think Ianry meant any harm by what he said,” she said finally, “but it wasn’t fair anyway. You’re...you’re amazing Rona, in a hundred more ways than just what you can do with some thread and vines, but because of that, too. You’ve clearly worked your ass off to be as good as you are. You know, occasional misdirected ice knives aside.”

That earned her a chuckle, small but genuine, and Val felt her heart quicken as Rona slid sideways along the wall and rested a shoulder back against hers.

“That probably won’t happen again,” she said, with a thin smile. Val grinned.

“Wouldn’t matter even if it did, love. Accidents happen to all of us. But that doesn’t change the fact that you could set the ground around me on fire, and I’d trust that you’d put it out before anyone got hurt. You’re a damn fine druid Rona, but I admire your dedication to doing right even more.”

“Me?” Rona sat forward with the reddening cheeks and sudden, righteous indignation of someone whose only response to a compliment was to return it. “What about you? I've spent the last few months watching you fling yourself between us and every kind of monster that Cinderfells can dream up. I expect that I’ll spend the next few months doing the same thing. You want to talk to me about dedication? Protecting people is so natural to you, a god came down to help you do it!” She huffed and folded her arms over her chest. “No one has ever thought to ask why I like you, Val. You know why? It's because they haven’t needed to. Knowing you makes the reason plain enough.”

This time, the heat surging upwards bypassed Val’s neck completely and shot straight to her ears, which felt suddenly like they matched Amon’s in their shade.

“Well,” she said, when sense and her full grasp of Common finally returned, “now that’s hardly fair. See, I was under the distinct impression that I was complimenting you.”

Rona’s lips curled into a wry smile, her cheeks their own delightful shade of rose. “Funny how a conversation works, huh?”

They both buckled into a laugh, and whatever coy hesitation had been putting distance between them suddenly vanished like a mist in morning sun. Rona sank further against Val’s arm once she had collected herself, and leaned her head onto her shoulder.

“I should clean all of this up,” she said after a moment, gesturing to the piled satchels around them. “With any luck, we’re not going to be needing to burn a bunch of spells in the next few days anyway.”

“Don’t be so sure,” said Val, grinning. “We have a rather permanent history of getting ourselves into all manner of trouble. In fact, you might even need a whole other bag of…” She paused and grabbed the nearest satchel. “Acorns?”

Rona giggled. “I use those more for making friends with squirrels than for magic, if I’m honest.”

“Of course,” said Val, with a good-natured roll of her eyes as she let the satchel fall. “What I mean is, I still have plenty more stupid questions about magic, and I’m not so terrible at finding useful things in the woods. Mostly Sendran woods, to be fair, and mostly in the south, but I haven’t almost eaten poisonous berries since I was eight, which isn’t horrible when you think about it -”

“I was actually planning on gathering some things to bring Rosie back today,” Rona cut in, pulling away to grin up at her. “If you wanted to come along…?”

Val practically jumped to her feet, snatching her shield from where it was leaned against the bedside and slinging it onto her back. “Please. I’m already sick of this room, this inn and this whole bloody city. Let’s let it fend for itself for a little while, hey?”

“A date, then,” Rona agreed, grinning as she stood and then leaning forward to nudge Val with an elbow. “And maybe I’ll even let you hold the basket.”