#liefred antiqua

[oderu]

gjuys do you care him

[natkidding]

[queen-scribbles]

The Long Burning Torch ch 8

Alright, here we go, continuing what might be (rip) the longest day of Xaeryn's life for my @shepherds-of-haven 20's AU. (And a big thanks to @emeraldgreaves for code diving for me again <3)

Wordcount: 8,350~

---

Xaeryn's knee-jerk instinct was to correct 'abducted, not kidnapped'. As if that made a lick of difference to the fact Red was gone because someone had taken him.

Closely on its heels came Sun above, this is my fault. It wasn't as if Red was involved with anything else that had even a sliver of a chance to put him in danger; it had to be the research he was doing for her, or something else related to the case.

She shook off both thoughts and made herself focus. Panic wouldn't help Red. Her detective skills might. Would. "Could I see his office?"

Pan gave her a concerned look--probably heard the slight break in her voice. "Xaer, are you...?"

"Crying about it won't find him any faster," she said brusquely, squaring her shoulders. "But if those responsible" --for abducting him--"left any clues, especially if there's something I could use to help scrying..."

He nodded, an understanding gleam in his eye. "I think security's done and didn't find anything to make them suspicious, but you deal with this sort of thing more than they do, so if you wanna take a gander..."

He gestured toward the office, then followed a pace or two behind her, hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers. He didn't say anything and let her take in the scene.

It looked the same, roughly, as the last time she'd visited, just sans one tall, charming headmaster to greet her with an easy smile and warm green eyes. It almost offended her that Red's office looked the same without him in it, which was silly.

But it looked the same. There were no signs of a struggle or a fight.

Xaeryn traced a finger along the edge of the desk, smiling slightly at the trio of books half on top of each other, the stack of six more haphazard next to the chair, the charcoal grey suit jacket hanging off one corner of the chairback. It was the sort of space she could guess belonged to Red Antiqua without ever seeing him in it.

The books open on the desk were familiar ones; Jalis desert tribes, pre-Castigation artefacts. The research he'd offered to recompile for her. She stared at the desk and chairs for a long moment.

"... a girl does need a job eventually, and I’ve always loved a good mystery.”

“Or even a bad one..."

She didn't like how hard it was to focus on the task at hand; she was behind the eight ball enough without getting distracted by their bull sessions here over the past sennight--

She straightened.

"Ryn? You need to leave?" Pan asked.

Xaeryn shook her head. "I'm fine," she said, voice steady. "There are books on the chairs."

"Yeah, that's Red for you." Pan shot her a questioning look. "You know the man's borderline incapable of putting away books he 'might need later', even if later turns out to be two months down the road."

She couldn't help a small laugh. "No, I do know that. The books are still on the chairs. Whoever took him didn't try to be chummy and draw out their visit. When he has company that's staying, he moves the books so they have somewhere to sit. So this was quick in and out, no signs of struggle, and they didn't try to play coy. This was a mission."

God help her, it was hard to stay and sound detached about this.

"Well, night watchman says he didn't hear or see anything odd and he's always been honest and faithful in doing his rounds. He does stay on the first floor, though, as there's no other access to up here than the lobby, and there's another watchman outside." Pan crossed his arms, looking thoughtfully around the office. "So either they knew his schedule, got blazing lucky, or... didn't come through downstairs."

"If they didn't come through downstairs, maybe they had a Traveler," Xaeryn mused. "But it would be a gamble to translocate into an unfamiliar space as small as an office." She frowned.

"Maybe they just scaled the outside of the building," Pan suggested. "Wouldn't take more than an hour of waiting to gauge the outside watchman's rounds."

"And figuring out which window would be unlocked?" Xaeryn countered, just to see how far they could follow this possibility.

Pan's eyes narrowed, and he swore under his breath before darting down the hall. She arched a brow at the abrupt departure and resumed examining the room until he returned.

"The corner office," he said, scowling. "It's unoccupied right now, so we use it when we need a break. Sela's always smoking charch in there, and then Bart opens the window to get the smell out but he never remembers to close it all the way. And if the door's mostly shut, you wouldn't see it from the hall. Hael."

"Even if we accept that theory for how they got in, how would they make a clean sneak with Red?" she pointed out. "He'd either be struggling or..." she wrinkled her nose at the phrasing even as she said it. "...dead weight."

Pan ran a hand through his hair, rubbed the back of his neck, and eventually shook his head. "Search me."

Xaeryn mulled it over for a bit, looking at the other books on Red's desk, smiling at the scraps of paper sticking out to mark pages. "What if... both idea are right? They came in through the window, but translocated out? Their hideout would be a familiar destination, thus safe to Travel to. It's an effective way to get an... unwilling or unconscious companion somewhere without much fuss."

"That means there probably were only one or two of them..." Pan sighed, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. "I offered to help him. With getting things together for you. I already know some of the details and I can keep my mouth shut. He said it was fine; this sort of thing is fun. B'sides, it wasn't like he minded doing it for you--"

Her heart squeezed. "He said that?"

"No, but, Xaer" --Pan arched a brow at her-- "I know both of you well enough to read between the lines."

She couldn't argue that. "How many times do I have to remind you you can call me Red?"

"Anyway, if I'd stayed, and there were only a couple of these toughs, maybe... maybe it would be an attempted kidnapping."

Xaeryn shook her head. "Depends how badly they wanted him." Her conversation with Briony and Darius was too fresh in her mind. "You might also be hurt or dead, and that's the last thing he'd want. Or that I want."

"Good point." He sucked the inside of his cheek. "Why would someone want Red that badly, Xaeryn? Is this... because of your case?"

"I think so." She winced. "I just don't know what part of his involvement would make him an appealing target." She hugged her arms in close against her chest. "If it was something specific or just because we were seen together and the people I'm after thought taking him would... hurt me."

They weren't wrong.

"I don't want to know all of what's going on, Ryn," Pan sighed, "but if that's the case, these sound like some pretty nasty brunos to mess with."

"They are." No point sugarcoating it.

Pan didn't reply, just leaned against the wall sucking his teeth as he watched her.

Xaeryn circled the desk again, hoping desperately for something that would be a clue or--

A curling corner of notebook paper peeked out from under one of the open books on the desk. She shifted the tomes aside and found a whole sheaf, covered front and back in sprawling notes. He'd even written in their shorthand, which made a small smile tug her lips despite the circumstances.

"He got a lot down," she muttered under her breath, the familiar shorthand making something twist in her chest. I hope you're okay.

"Yeah, I think he foisted his class on someone else so he could just work on this all day." Pan pushed off the wall and approached. "Not a shocking twist."

Xaeryn looked up from the paper, brow furrowed but didn't rise to the bait.

Pan, however, was undeterred. He sat back on the edge of the desk, giving her a skeptical look. "You two have always been thick as thieves, but it made him a special kind of dizzy to have you come waltzing back into our lives, y'know."

The twist in her chest went tighter. "I didn't know, actually. But it's always wonderful to reunite with old friends."

"Uh-huh. Old friends." Pan studied his nails a moment, then looked back at her with brows arched. "And what happened between you old friends the night of the gala to make him not say a gods-blessed word the whole way back to the hotel?"

Her fingers tightened, crinkling the paper. "That doesn't seem like a relevant line of inquiry, Panrachus," she said, gaze fixed on the page before her.

"It is to me," he countered with a knowing smile. "Maybe something in there relates to why he got nabbed."

She didn't like that thought. Even more than she disliked Pan's prying. "Nothing happened at the gala."

"And after?" Pan asked pointedly.

"...I might do something dreadfully improper."

"Also nothing." It came out sharper than intended. Thanks to your timing. Xaeryn cleared her throat. "Beyond what you already knew; I got jumped on my way back and Red helped patch up the result of defending myself." She waved the bandaged hand as proof. "I'm glad he was there; it would've been a nightmare to do alone."

"Mm-hm."

She shot him a narrow-eyed look. "Why do I feel like you don't believe me?"

"I dunno." Pan gave her a look that spoke volumes. "Do you feel like part of it shouldn't be believed?"

She looked him dead in the eye. "Nothing. Happened."

"Alright, I believe you," he shrugged. A beat. "Did you want it to?"

The whole messy torrent of emotions she been damming up since that night surged in her chest. God help me, yes.

She was saved from a moment of naked vulnerability by something gleaming on the desk, down among the books and paper. She dug for it and came up with an earring, amber bead transfixed on a small gold hoop.

"Hello there," she murmured, cradling the jewelry in her palm. "Last I checked, Red wasn't one for earrings."

Pan shook his head. "And he's the only one who's been in this office since we got back from Haven..."

There was always the chance it came from a student who'd visited prior to that, but it was the only lead she'd found. Xaeryn did not want to dwell on what she'd do it it was a dead end. If it was her fault he'd been abducted, the least she could do was save him, too.

No time like the present, she told herself, and with a deep breath sat in Red's chair. Part of her would rather have her full focus for a scry, but she didn't want to wait the two hours it would take to drive home. There was a driving, itching need to do something now. She pulled out the small bronze dish from her handbag. Scrying with so small a focus would give her a fearsome headache, but she didn't care if it let her find Red.

Pan watched from the other side of the desk, lapsed into anxious silence.

Alright, you bastard. Her hand curled around the earring. Where are you?

Scrying on the present was like sticking her head in a shallow pond to see what was on the bottom--blurry or shadowed at the edges, but she could pick up the detail she was after.

This time, however, was like trying to dive into a frozen lake.

She could see the potential for a vision, but slammed into something that blocked her from reaching it. Dead air.

Xaeryn broke the attempted scry, heedless of the dull ache starting at her temples. "No, no, no..." she mumbled, looking around the room.

"Xaer?"

"It didn't work," she said sharply. At least that confirmed the earring didn't come from a random Solhadur student, but that wasn't worth beans if she couldn't use it to find him.

Her gaze lighted on the jacket hanging off his chair and she seized it, fingers curling in the charcoal grey fabric as the smell of dusty books and his cologne filled her nose. She stared fiercely at the scrying focus, daring it not to work.

Dead air, again.

Her heart lodged in her throat and she tried to push it back down. Think this through logically, Xaeryn. It can't be coincidence, this implies it is indeed the people who have the Torch--Kaza and his allies--who took Red. They clearly have a VERY good Binder laying wards. Maybe Neon would know something; Pan said he's working in Haven now, I could ask--

"-ryn." From Pan's tone he'd repeated her name a few times at this point.

"I can't see him, either," she admitted, numb at having to say the words aloud.

"So... what next, then?"

What, indeed. There had to be something else. Something she could do, someone she could talk to. She couldn't be powerless, not now, not for this. She fought the desperation tightening her chest. Calm. Panic will only cloud your mind, and how will you help if you aren't thinking straight? It took a few moments of sitting in silence, absently rubbing the fabric of Red's jacket between her fingers as she forced herself to follow her advice.

"Well," she finally began, "given I got the same result attempting to look for Liefred or the earring's owner as I do for Solimer's Torch, it's likely they're together. It's the only times I've had this happen when I scry, so I feel it's a logical assumption. I have Thieves Guild in Haven keeping an eye out for unusual activity in Ashtown--the most likely hiding place for these hooligans. I can see if they noticed anything since I last spoke to them. Having a..." Hostage? prisoner? "...person to stash in the same building might've stirred some some activity."

"All the way back in Haven?!"

"That is where my prime suspect currently resides," she pointed out. "And I have an appointment with a pair likewise working against him; maybe they saw something helpful if the Guild didn't."

Pan sucked his teeth a moment, then cracked a small, wry smile. "Red would have a heart attack if he knew you'd made a deal with a Thieves Guild."

"He can fuss over my choices til he's blue in the face, long as it means he's safe," she retorted, pushing to her feet. "I'll ring with updates, do you have a direct number?" She scribbled it sideways up Red's notes as Pan rattled it off, collected her scrying focus to tuck that and the earring in her handbag. Maybe later she'd have better results than just a headache.

"Maybe I should come with you. Just back to Haven."

Xaeryn shook her head, resting a hand on Pan's arm. "Just in case the security teams figure something important, if you're here you can pass it along."

His expression said he saw through the excuse to keep him somewhere safe, but he nodded. "Fine."

"I'll be in touch," Xaeryn promised. She hesitated to return the suit jacket. "Do you think he'd mind if I keep this? To try again later."

"Not a drop," Pan said, shaking his head. "Find him, Xaer. And be safe, huh? I don't want to lose one friend, let alone two."

She nodded, not pointing out those request may well turn out mutually exclusive, and headed for her car.

---

Her head was awhirl the whole drive home, but she didn't have time to puzzle it out--or speak to Thieves Guild--when she got back. She was cutting it close on making her meeting with Briony and Darius. One-God willing, they'd know something that would help tie King Kaza to Red's abduction, or at least gotten something pointing to where he had stashed the Torch.

Xaeryn parked, made a brief visit to her office to lock the notes and earring in her desk, and headed briskly for the meeting. She turned the corner just in time to catch a flash of green hair as Darius ducked into the curiosities shop.

While smart not to visit the café so soon, especially since he and Briony rather stood out as customers, it made Xaeryn wish she'd warned them of the shop proprietor's eccentricities. Chandry was harmless but... off-putting to some, and Darius didn't seem the type to handle off-putting well.

But she had bigger concerns now. Xaeryn took a deep breath as she pulled open the door, but there was only so much her nerves were willing to ease.

Darius wasn't immediately visible when she entered, but he found her quickly enough. "You look riled, miss lady detective."

Xaeryn flashed a flat look for his tone. "It's warranted. Where's Briony?"

He craned his neck to look around the store. "Either on her way, or I guess she couldn't breeze on his majesty." His eyes narrowed. "You don't look happy 'bout that. What's tricks?"

She looked down, pretending to browse the curiosities on offer. "A friend of mine was abducted. I'm of a mind it's connected to our... suspect; this friend was helping me with research on the Torch."

Darius frowned, playing with a dinged up first aid kit. "That's the only connection?"

"I don't need anything else," Xaeryn hissed. She dropped the charch pipe she hadn't really been looking at. "He's a professor, for Heaven's sake! The only thing remotely dangerous he's tied to is this!" She gestured between them. "I wanted to ask Briony if she'd noticed anything in King Kaza''s behavior or visitors that might help me narrow down when he was... taken."

"We need to find the Torch," he growled in an undertone, "not your sweetheart."

"Friend," Xaeryn corrected tartly--and far too quickly, even she heard it.

"Can I help you find anything?" Chandry's arrival had been so quiet it made Darius flinch, whatever remark he was about to make lost in staring at the garishly made up--or painted, Xaeryn had never decided which side of the line it occupied--face of the shop's owner and namesake.

"Not today, Chandry," she said with a small shake of her head. "Just browsing."

"In that case... make sure you look at the new arrivals," Chandry said, patting the rolled up rugs on a nearby table. "And, smart as you are, maybe you can help me with something." He leaned forward, elbows braced on the topmost rug.

It was the fastest way to get their relative privacy back, and he had saved her from a rather embarrassing turn of conversation, so Xaeryn indulged him. "Oh?"

Chandry grinned. "I've been having a wonder this morning. Which streets," he began conspiratorially, " would have the most ghosts on them, do you think?"

Xaeryn pretended to mull it over, though the answer was obvious, even tapping her finger to her chin dramatically. "I guess it would be... dead ends?"

He all but clapped in his enthusiasm. "Correct!" A flourishing bow. "I shall leave you to your shopping." He bounded off.

"Took long enough," Darius grumbled.

"Chandry's not so bad," Xaeryn said defensively. "You just need to know how to talk to him." There are benefits to being on his good side. But they were here for a purpose. "Back to the matter at hand, I am aware of your deadline; I'm fairly sure my friend's being held in the same place as the Torch."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I can't scry on him, either!" She bit her lip. "It's the same dead air feeling as trying to do so with the Torch, and it's something I've never encountered before, so it seems a logical conclusion."

"Hm," Darius grunted. "Y'know, if Jarkyth sent the brunos who grabbed your friend, there might not be anything to glean from Ackshin."

"I thought about that. D'you know if either of them employ Diminished? Aside from Briony."

"A few, I think," he shrugged, "but you'd have to ask Bry for specifics. What about your friend; he a Mage? Put up a fight?"

"He is, but his specialization is Conjuring, translocation, not combat."

"If he's a Traveler, why-"

Xaeryn held up a finger to cut him off. "I'm trying not to think about that. None of the answers that spring to mind are pleasant, especially in relation to my best friend."

Something glittered in Darius' eyes but he didn't pursue the thought. "Didja learn anything new before you got distracted?"

She had to grit her teeth not to snap Red being abducted wasn't a distraction. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of getting under her skin, she relayed her deal with Thieves Guild and plan to talk to them when this appointment was done. "And you? Did your behind the scenes snooping turn up anything?"

"Yes and no." Darius did a double take at a fishbowl--complete with fish--before pulling himself back to the conversation. "I tailed one of Ackshin's toughs, all the way to blazin' Ashtown, but she gave me the slip." He scowled. "Felt like we were close to where she was goin', too."

Xaeryn stiffened. "What part of Ashtown was this in? I can have the Guild look more closely."

"South-eastern, I guess I'd call it," Darius said after a moment. "Almost plastered against the outer wall."

It made sense for them to be away from the main drag, though she wouldn't have expected quite that far. Unless they knew of some way out through or under the walls.... For now the important thing was having a smaller area for search.

"Alright," she murmured, half to herself, "I can work with that, provided the Guild will play ball."

"Don't suppose you have anything more actionable for me, miss snooper?" Darius interrupted her train of thought.

Xaeryn grimaced and shook her head. "No, just the deal with Thieves Guild. I'm afraid I've been a bit preoccupied by the abduction today. So unless them making a bolder move helps you in some way, I don't."

He grunted and glared at a table of kitchen paraphernalia. "Gods damn this twisted up kn-"

The door jangled forcefully as it swung open to admit a new arrival, familiar pink ponytail swishing as she looked around.

Briony's eyes flashed when she saw them and it clearly took effort to act nonchalant on her way in their direction. She called a polite response to Chandry's greeting without even looking, dodged a small table, and finally reached Xaeryn and Darius. "Glad I didn't miss you," she murmured, examining a display of commemorative playbills and paintings. "Kaza had a couple meetings where he wanted a show of strength an' I think someone might've been tailing me--"

"And you still came?!" Darius hissed. Xaeryn couldn't disagree; it seemed a terrible risk.

"I lost them first!" she retorted, flicking him an annoyed look. "I've been doing this as long as you, Darius Torren, I know how to lose a tail!"

"Oh, but they're so useful for swatting flies, why would you want to lose a tail if you had it?" Chandry interjected, and Briony looked briefly taken aback by both his sudden presence and appearance.

At least she recovered faster than Darius, showing a warm smile. "Oh, I mean a much less useful kind of tail."

Chandry shrugged at the explanation and disappeared between shelves once more.

"All else aside, I am glad you made it," Xaeryn said to steer them on track. She had to take Briony's word she'd truly shaken the tail. "Any developments for you?"

"Jarkyth came by for a bit before lunch," Briony said, after a quick glance to assure Chandry was moved off and there were no other customers in the store. "They shut themselves in the sitting room for near an hour. They're planning something with the Torch, and I feel like--"

"Any other visitors or messages this morning?" Xaeryn interrupted. "Perhaps that evoked a change in demeanor?"

Briony gave her a curious look but nodded. "He got a message during breakfast that prompted a very smug smile." Her brow furrowed. "Come to think, he did say something to the messenger that I didn't catch. Wonder if that's what made Jarkyth come over; they've been really careful about appearances. Why?" She crossed her arms. "You're being sort of intense, Xaeryn. It's scaring me."

Xaeryn explained the circumstances. Again. "And with what you say occurred, I think it's a safe bet our friends are responsible."

Briony's expression shifted aghast and she reached over to squeeze Xaeryn's shoulder comfortingly. It was a surprisingly hefty squeeze. "Are you doing alright?"

Xaeryn nodded. "Don't have the luxury to be otherwise."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Actually, yes. Do you know of any other Diminished among King Kaza's entourage?"

Briony's face screwed in thought. "That came along? Just a few. It's funny; he's superstitious as hael, likes to flaunt me at every opportunity, but he's also nervous about trusting in magic too much. There's a Binder, to do his protective wards. Shy little redhead, I've never heard her speak and don't even know her name," she said regretfully, twirling her ponytail as she continued. "Heron's Ket, mostly here for his skill with battle magic, but he's a fair hand at conjuring--"

"Traveing?" Xaeryn's brows arched.

"He... probably could if he had to," Briony nodded, then gave a small gasp. "You think he's the one who took your friend?"

"Seems likely," Xaeryn said. If he was a full-blood Ket he could do it single-handed. "Are they the only ones?"

"For Ackshin, yeah. Jarkyth has a few 'judiciously placed servants' he's alluded to. Mostly things like Binding or Seer, useful but not dangerous if they decide to turn on him. Has a Shifter Heron won't stop nattering about." She smirked. "I think he's stuck on her."

Darius snorted. "Not important, Bry."

"You never know, D." She shrugged and turned to Xaeryn. "So, why do they want your friend?"

"I've been trying to figure that," Xaeryn sighed, trailing her fingers over a dark lantern. "Even from unpleasant angles. If they know I'm on their trail and want to keep me in the dark, I've already learned--and written down--near everything about the Torch, and there are... more final ways to remove him as a source.

"If they want to use him as leverage to make me dust on the case, you'd think they'd be more blatant or would have left a note-"

"Unless they're countin' on your big brain to fill in the blanks," Darius interjected sardonically. "An' you knowin' without them sayin' serving to make you more suggestible."

"Such a ray of sunshine, D," Briony groused, elbowing him sharply.

"He has a point," Xaeryn said, gritting her teeth at the thought. "But they'll be quite disappointed if that's their goal."

Briony flashed a fierce smile as she shifted to a shelf of knick knacks. "So, what's our plan, then?"

"Darius mentioned trailing one of the king's people to Ashtown. I'll have Thieves Guild watch the area more closely if they're amenable" --and she'd sweeten the deal if that's what it took to make them amenable--"you and Darius keep an eye for our friends' behavior so we can act swiftly if they do anything hinky." She tapped a finger to her lips. "I hate being stuck in so reactive a course, but I fear it's where our options lay."

Though if opportunity presented itself she would seize it with both hands.

"I guess you're righ- Oh, this is adorable!" Briony gave a delighted (and distracted) squeal as she snatched a small ceramic ahfuri off the shelf. It was adorable, but-

Xaeryn cleared her throat.

"I'll keep eyes peeled," Briony promised, cradling her find.

"How're we passing along anything we see?" Darius asked.

"Telephone or wire, I suppose," Xaeryn replied.

"Right." Briony nodded, wiggling slightly as she glanced toward the counter. "I'm gonna go pay for this." She darted across the store.

Darius fixed Xaeryn with a steady look. "You will tell us if you learn anything, right, miss snooper? Before you go harin' off after your friend alone?"

"Have you decided to worry about me in his absence?" Xaeryn said dryly.

He just arched a brow.

"I promise to pass along anything I learn, I don't promise to wait before acting on it."

Darius chuckled and glanced at Briony, who was chatting up Chandry with another warm smile as she paid. "Don't s'ppose I can blame you for that." He tugged on his cap. "See you soon, lady detective."

Briony noted him leaving and darted after him, barely remembering to grab her purchase.

Xaeryn smiled and browsed a few more minutes before heading for the door herself.

A hand on her arm stopped her just before she exited. "One moment," Chandry chirped, pressing something into her palm. "Don't forget your prize."

Xaeryn blinked at the bronze sun brooch. "Prize-?"

The riddle.

"To the victor go the spoils," Chandry proclaimed, releasing her arm to give another bow, and then ducked away. Rather than drag things out by protesting or trying to insist on paying--experience said he wouldn't take a danar--Xaeryn slipped the brooch in her handbag and headed for her office.

---

It hit her like a thunderbolt halfway up the steps--it was midafternoon and she'd not eaten since breakfast. As if summoned by the realization, her stomach cramped and her knees bobbled on the next step.

Xaeryn scowled at the reminder she needed to eat. There was too much to do, she needed to talk to Thieves Guild, she needed to poke around, she needed to find Red before--

Her stomach growled loudly.

I think there's still my half a sandwich left from yesterday, she surrendered--reluctantly--to her body's urging. After all, she wouldn't get much done if she fainted from hunger. The half sandwich. Perhaps an apple. Ten minutes to eat. She could spare that. Red would fuss if he knew she wasn't taking care of herself.

Xaeryn smiled wryly as she unlocked the door. That was better motivation than anything. She checked the back of the door as she closed it; no sigil showing, so no break-in attempt. She collected the sandwich and apple, opting to sit at her desk and review notes while she ate. Maybe there was something helpful she'd missed.

There was quite a bit to review, though less than it appeared by page count given Red's sprawling shorthand. He didn't doodle like she did, instead filling the page edge to edge. It didn't look like he'd found anything new while getting this together and it was easy to skim.

As she tucked the papers back in the drawer her gaze landed on the earring. She set down the small remaining portion of her sandwich and stared.

Couldn't hurt to try again...

She removed the earring, fetched her scrying disk, and cleared her mind to focus. The disk's surface clouded, cleared, and gave her nothing but the same dead air.

Xaeryn growled and glared at the earring. "Where is he?!"

She'd run into protective wards or sigils before blocking scries. This was different; just empty not blocked, and it kept happening on this case--

The telephone rang. She very seriously considered not answering. She needed to get to Ashtown. But that would be unprofessional, and what if it was Pan? Or Darius, or Briony, though this would be awful quick for one of them. So she sighed and picked up the receiver. "Xaeryn Shrike Investigations." Please be quick.

"Finally!" Ms. Aerin huffed on the other end. "I've been trying to reach you for hours, Miss Shrike!"

Really should get a secretary... "Apologies, there was a development and I was out of office." She ran a hand down her face.

"From your tone, I'd reckon this is not a positive development in the direction of recovering the artefact and arresting the thieves?"

"It might lead there," Xaeryn acknowledged. "But the actual occurrence is not. They abducted my friend who'd been helping with research."

"Ah. My condolences, Miss Shrike. Is there any chance of them learning compromising details?"

"Not if I've followed the trail to correct suspicions, no. He knows the history and legend around the Torch, but not the current state of my investigation." She shifted her grip on the telephone. "And my suspect is already familiar with all of that."

"Ah, so you do have a firm suspect."

"Mm." The brooch slid out of her handbag when she nudged it aside, and Xaeryn picked it up to toy with as she talked. "I was pretty firmly on his scent after the gala, but I met a couple... inside men, shall we say, who confirmed my suspicions. So I've found the man, I believe, I just need to find where he's stashed the artefact" --and Red--"and proof of his complicity in the matter."

"Excellent! Mr. Syndran told me you had some promising leads from the gala, I'm glad to hear one of them panned out," Ms. Aerin said. "The case has felt... treading water too long."

"Oh, yes, I suppose those developments did occur after we talked," Xaeryn murmured, tracing the bronze sun's rays.

"Talked?" There was a frown in her voice. "Miss Shrike, I wasn't there."

Something cold skittered down Xaeryn's spine to swirl in her gut. "What? I grant that it was a full night, but I distinctly remember talking to you."

"Then apparently I have a doppelganger," Ms. Aerin said tartly. "I didn't go, Miss Shrike. I was dealing with the effects of a traitorous sandwich at lunch."

Food poisoning?? "Then who..." The nagging sensation of just missing something was back. Followed like a bucket of ice water by the thought of the conversation she'd just had.

There's a Shifter working for Jarkyth.

"Did you inform Mr. Syndran you wouldn't be attending?" Xaeryn asked, willing her voice to stay level as her mind raced to incorporate this twist.

"Of course. I called the office." A pause. "I was honestly surprised to learn he attended without me. But the Hall is an important enough contract, I suppose it makes sense..."

Xaeryn shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. "Ms. Aerin, to all appearances, he attended with you."

There was a long silence as the other woman processed her words, followed by a snort. "Do you expect me to believe some impersonator managed to fool Riel Syndran into thinking she was me for several hours?!?!"

"Not for hours," Xaeryn corrected. "A few minutes for the drive to the gala, and then a short chat every so often throughout the evening. Mingling's the point of such an event, from my understanding. And at one point when I was chinning with him he mentioned 'you' were bustling about as if the gala was your responsibility instead of the museum's."

"That is the sort of thing I would do," Ms. Aerin sighed. "Still, I wonder how she pulled it off. And why."

"Information would be my guess," Xaeryn said. She idly clipped the brooch to her blouse and pulled out her notepad to page through. "My chief suspect is the king of Elinden, who has cultural and religious motives if he is indeed responsible, and at least a few high-placed political connections who could hire or employ someone skilled at disguise. The only motive I could imagine would be nosing around to see if there's information they missed. Or something they need that I have, or if there was worry I was too close on their trail." She flexed her bruised hand, evidence of the answer to that.

"And what would they have learned from your chat with her?"

"From me? That I had talked to Miss Aescar about people who tried to buy, claim, or steal the Torch. And that my notepad had been stolen. Nothing they didn't know already."

"They knew about the notepad?" Ms. Aerin said, arched brow in her voice.

"Oh, right." Xaeryn explained the reasoning behind that belief, the words trailing off as she reached a particular note from her inaugural meeting with Briony and Darius. She stared at it a moment, then decided to take a shot in the dark. "Ms. Aerin, did you go to the museum to oversee the arrival of the artefacts?"

"That was the plan," Ms. Aerin replied. "However, there were a couple... issues that arose requiring my attention, so I had to leave before they were done."

Got you. Despite the nagging sensation still growing at the base of her skull, Xaeryn smirked. "Thank you. Enlightening as this conversation has proven, was there a reason you were trying to reach me? I have a couple time-sensitive angles to investigate..."

"Just looking for an update; we hadn't heard from you yet today and Mr. Syndran is getting restless at how long things are dragging out."

"Believe me, I share his disapporval of that," Xaeryn said, running a finger over the notepad page. "I'm highly motivated to change it, and hopeful one of the new angles will bear significant fruit."

"Very well then, I'll leave you to it. Good day, Miss Shrike."

"Good day." The nagging grew stronger as she dropped the telephone back in its cradle. She was missing something, something right in front of her, and she couldn't help but feel it was something vital.

Deep breath and half a step back, she told herself. If Ms. Aerin hadn't stayed to oversee the whole delivery at the museum, and she knew from Darius and Ferrin's accounts nothing happened to the couriers' caravan on the way through the city, then it seemed clear the Shifter masqueraded as her to get access once the delivery arrived but she'd left. Xaeryn pulled out the photograph of Solimer's Torch. It wasn't even the size of her palm; easy to conceal in a handbag or pocket--or your blouse if you were feeling bold.

I know how they did it. The adrenaline rush at that victory was somewhat dulled by knowing these people--smart, bold, and desperate--had Red.

The Shifter had probably been emboldened by her success at the delivery--faking bad humor so people were glad to be rid of you was one off the oldest tricks in the book. Enough to attempt something more daring, like copying Aerin again for the gala--

Xaeryn sat bolt upright in her chair, the nagging turned to gut-wrenching revelation as pieces clicked. There was one more thing the Shifter had learned from her at the gala.

Red was the only other person who could read her shorthand.

Nausea twisted and she almost tasted her lunch again. It really was her fault. She'd relayed the damning information to the culprits with blithe ignorance.

And now that she knew, and was recalling the encounter with a more critical eye, all the clues seemed blatantly obvious. The chillier manner, the repeated 'Detective Shrike' rather than 'Miss', the vague prodding at topics they had already discussed.

Self-flagellation later, tracking down Red now, she scolded. The one silver lining to realizing her gaffe was that if they had abducted Red for such a purpose, they'd need him alive, conscious, and (mostly) unharmed.

The swift counter to that--and extreme incentive to hurry--was she had no idea how far they'd go to make him cooperate. Or what they wanted from her notes. Or if they would believe what he claimed about their contents.

There was not, however, any doubt in her mind what would happen once they had what they wanted.

She needed to talk to Thieves Guild. Now.

Xaeryn pushed away from the desk with vigor, only just remembered to lock up the case paraphernalia, and headed out the door, determined steps carrying her toward Ashtown.

---

She'd wound her way through the streets and was just in sight of the cat graffiti outside the Guild's warehouse when movement raked her peripheral vision and a lanky figure dropped off a low roof nearby.

"You're sure gettin' easy with navigating our streets, Miss Shrike," Chase said with a grin, shoving his hands in his pockets. Dust or dirt smeared the sleeve and front of his dark red shirt, and his green eyes twinkled as he examined her. "Quite the skill for a proper lady to develop; people will talk."

"An excellent memory is actually quite a useful skill to refine as a detective," Xaeryn corrected. "I need to speak with you."

"Oho, straight to the point." He was still grinning. "This about the deal you made with Ari?" One hand came out of the pocket to gesture toward the warehouse door.

"Yes." She gripped her handbag tightly more out of urgency than concern. "I wanted to talk about the terms."

"Changing them on us already?" Chase made a tsking sound as he turned into a room, smaller than where they'd spoken before, more of an office. "Not wise to play around with Thieves Guild, sunshine."

Xaeryn grit her teeth. Miss Shrike. But it wasn't worth it. "Not... changing in any way meant to be detrimental or unfair to you," she said, taking a seat when he offered. "You know I'd asked your people to keep an eye for anything hinky. I was wondering what the trade off would be for more closely examining a smaller area."

"So, rather than a general 'let me know if anything weird happens on your turf', you want us to poke around part of it for something specific?" Chase sat behind what approximated a desk as he spoke--planks balanced atop crates--and put his feet up.

"Yes. What change would that bring to our bargained price?"

He smirked and played with one of his rings, studying her face with a keen look in his eyes. "Well, seeing as we've already made a pretty lyss off you, which I'm sure you'll at least partly claim as a business expense, so Merchants Guild foots the bill" --he gave a Cheshire grin at the thought--"I don't want any more of your money."

She arched a brow. "No?" The hair prickled at her nape.

Chase slid a knife free of its boot sheath and stared at the blade nonchalantly. "No, I think for this I want a favor." His eyes flicked to hers. "Regardless of if we find what you're after."

"Accepted, but I won't do anything illegal," Xaeryn said without a beat of hesitation.

"Darling, this is Thieves Guild," he drawled, his grin unwavering under piercing green eyes.

"And I"m certain there's at least a few legitimate things you can think of to ask me," she countered. "Nothing. Illegal." She'd square anything else between her and the One-God, but she wasn't going to jeopardize her livelihood doing something that would turn the police fully against her. She was already sort of a grey area to them. If push came to shove, she'd look for Red and the Torch herself.

"If it has to be on the up, then two favors," Chase said. He was studying her with narrowed eyes and it made her wonder what he saw.

She didn't feel like playing games to get an answer out of him, however. "One regardless, two if you're successful. I'm interested now in just the south-eastern quarter, near the wall in particular. Looking for a building that's being used to stash at least one stolen artefact and a... captive. But before you shift into that, did your people see anything from the more general assignment?"

"Twiggy blonde in the northeast part of the district, just hanging around." He waggled his brows. Xaeryn knew as well as he did people did not loiter in Ashtown for their health. "But she didn't do anything much; lingered and left, so I'd wager she got dusted on by whoever was s'pposed to meet her."

It didn't seem relevant, but she filed it away nonetheless. "Thank you. I'll be checking soon to see if you've found anything with the narrowed area."

"Anxious, are we?" Chase said with a knowing smile. "And could I get a description of this 'captive'? In case we see them, we should know if it's the right person, wouldn't you say?"

"He's tall, red hair, green eyes, street clothes sans jacket and perhaps tie." He didn't always wear one. "I'm not sure how they've been treating him, so he might be roughed up." She stood. "And this is a time-sensitive case that has already drug out longer than desired, so perhaps I am a bit anxious for its conclusion."

"Hopefully we'll find something that can help with that goal." He swung his feet down. "Be seein' you, Miss Shrike."

"You certainly will, Chase." She made her way outside, blinked through the dim-to-bright shift again, and briefly considered poking around herself before deciding to return to her office. Perhaps scrying on Red directly would work this time... If she could just see him, it would help the worry gnawing in her chest. No matter how dire the straits.

---

It did not work. Still nothing. Xaeryn hated feeling powerless at the best of times, not being able to do anything now, with Red in harm's clutches, was pure torture. It was getting harder and harder to fight off the frantic, paralyzing dread as each avenue she explored dropped a dead end in her path. She even got desperate enough to poke around the king's hotel, but that, too, came up empty.

She wasn't truly hungry, but when dinner time came she didn't have anything else to do except pray and go over notes again. Wait for Briony or Darius to reach out, if they would have cause. So she fixed something small and made herself eat. She didn't taste a bite.

To keep herself from pacing a hole in the floor, she decided to give scrying with the earring one more shot. Third time's the charm, wasn't that the saying?

Yes, she was getting a headache from scrying so much in one day. (Or trying to.) No, she didn't care if it would let her find Red before something happened to him.

There was a sense of last-ditch finality to this attempt as she prepared. Logic would dictate giving up if it failed to produce result again. Xaeryn wasn't sure she could be logical about this.

She pinched the earring between her thumb and first two fingers, focused on the bronze scrying disk, and sent up a prayer. One-God, please.

The surface wavered, clouded, cleared on an image. A lightning bolt of desperate relief seared through her and she almost lost the scry before focusing greedy attention on what she could see. A tall man, well built, with silvery-white hair. She strained her concentration until pain lanced her temples and could make out the Ket tattoo on his wrist and earring the match of the one she held in his ear. The background was fuzzy, but she got the sense of generic grandeur, like a ritzy hotel. Another figure stepped into the bounds of her scry--King Kaza Ackshin.

Xaeryn struggled to keep her breathing steady as hope nipped at her soul. A solid connection.

There was another silhouette at the edge, just a shadow, but it might've been Briony. The posture and ponytail looked right.

Her subject--Heron, she'd guess--and King Kaza were exchanging words, which the silent nature of scries meant she didn't catch, and their positioning made it hard to read lips. But it was clear from body language they were preparing to leave. The toll was too much and the scry faded as the figures headed out of the room.

Xaeryn's heart pounded with adrenaline and exertion in equal share as she sat back.

A lead. Oh, blessed God above, she had a lead. They were heading somewhere, the gamble was if it was where she wanted to find or something unrelated.

She was on her feet and halfway across the room before she remembered her promise to Darius. If Briony was with King Kaza, did that count as one of them knowing? Did she really have time...

Xaeryn groaned, turned back the desk, and called the place Darius had said he was staying. No, "Mr. Thrace" wasn't in, did she want to leave a message for him? Deep breath through her nose. "Tell him to meet his snooper friend by the Ashtown gate. She's not going to wait for him long." She hung up before the desk clerk could respond.

If she hustled, she could pick up the king's entourage at the gates and follow. If that's where they were going. If it wasn't, she'd be out of the office, should anyone try to reach her, and miss a vital update.

She had to follow this. To be so close, have this dropped almost literally in her lap...

What she'd seen of King Kaza's expression was eager--he was looking forward to wherever this would lead. That thought alone tipped the balance. There was only one course of action for her and she knew it.

Xaeryn didn't even bother with a hat this time. She only grabbed her handbag because it held her dagger, and if she'd chosen correctly, she would likely need it.

Please let me be right. Please let him be alright. There was no way to ensure someone knew what she was doing--she really should get a secretary--so she'd just have to hope. Hope Briony was truly along, or Darius wasn't out long to get her message, or something. This might very well be the culmination of her case, and all she cared about was saving her friend.

"Nothing. Happened."

"Did you want it to?"

Her hands were shaking as she locked the drawer, locked the door, and hurried toward the Ashtown gates, thoughts on Red and a fervent prayer in her heart.

[teeth-draws]

“You are a scholar, are you not?”

@shepherds-of-haven‘s Red + my MC Halle as Milo and Kida for Halloween huehue

[emeraldgreaves]

hmmm I will ask you about take your daughter to work day <3

send me a fic title so i’ll have to add five sentences and ramble about it

“What’s your name, kid?” [says Trouble.] I’m your age, she thinks, but the commander’s eyes feel like a long-range sniper sight from across the yard. Eyes in the back of his head doesn’t even begin to cover Blade Bronwyn. “Gwen,” she says. It’s not an uncommon name, and it’s not like there’s traces of her elsewhere. She tries to project inexperience as she unwraps her hands, aims for the right kind of first-week-new-recruit jumpy, not you-will-teach-me-to-shoot-one-day jumpy. Trouble claps familiarly her on the shoulder. “Welcome to the shepherds. We’re all cracked here.”

in which gwen gets separated from sarissa, and a couple of familiar faces show up. broader discussion of this AU here!

i say i’m not much of a kidfic person and then i chart out the rough extended family dynamic of aunts and uncles for all of the assorted kids. trouble being gwen’s favorite uncle/unofficial mentor is kind of my nod to gwen inheriting a lot of the qualities that made him and moira get along so well. my other favorite activity in this au is Putting Blade Through It. his paranoia is going to be an asset here, but not in the way he expects LMAO

[shepherds-of-haven]

Thank you Author for Liefred Antiqua he is the babygirl of all time and I hope to pinch him many times forever

Pinching him and making him shriek must be the best stress relief ever! 💖

[nataliesewell]

aadilah al shahid & liefred antiqua.

i made a map of your stars, then i had a revelation you’re as beautiful as endless, you’re the universe i’m helpless in an astronomer at my best when i throw away the measurements

[bright-burner]

Directory

➼All characters can also be found by their full names!

By character:

✨ The Shepherds ✨

Caine Tavadon

Liefred Antiqua

Tallys Ironwood

Shery Acquell

Mimir Esthin

Blade Bronwyn

Trouble Alder

Halek Prince

Croelle

Prihine Naveen

Briony Stormbreaker

Chase Trinaeste

Lavinet Naveen

Riel Syndran

Ayla Aescar

Everyone lol // Romance Options (ROs)

By content type:

Fic

Headcanons

Word of god (WOG)

Though I call this tag “word of god” and it can be WOG, it’s just the tag I use for thoughts and commentary from the creators.

Memes

[readingandsiamese]

Hello! I wrote a ShOH story inspired by this ask, "If the ROs were in the Orpheus/Eurydice situation, would they turn back to look or keep going" as well as Lena's answers. I wrote it really quickly so keep that in mind, heh. Oh and there are spoilers for some things...

I do not own Shepherds of Haven or the characters, except Nira. ShoH belongs to Lena Nguyen @shepherds-of-haven .

FYI, the story has things in it that are not really how magic/demons and Hael work in ShoH. I just had to get the Orpheus/Eurydice angst somehow, lol, so consider this an AU. Everything that's wrong is my doing. It's dark fantasy like ShOH, with references to violence and death.

I think I'll try to do one for all the ROs, if people are interested…

Of course I wrote about Blade and Nira first.

----

"Blade: He’d make it out, but only just--by the skin of his teeth. And it would be torture. He’s not a man of faith—especially faith in the word of others—but he’ll do anything for love, even if it means risking everything."

-Lena Nguyen

---

The Despair of Orpheus: Blade

Blade held the still form of Nira Rookesby, cradling her in his arms. She breathed steadily, in and out, but that was the only sign of life. His forehead was pressed against hers. How could I let this happen? he asked himself.

The rain streaked everything, so when he looked up, it was unclear if it was tears or rain on his cheeks.

"You'll only get one chance," Red Antiqua said behind him, expression grim. "The portal will work to get you there and back. That's all. I can't translocate to Hael to get you."

"I know," Blade said in a clipped voice that didn't quite disguise his upset, raising his head to glare at Red. "You will take care of her while I'm gone."

It wasn't a question, it was a command.

"Of course," Red replied, biting back another retort. He'd known her longer, he'd cared for her first, even if they were only close friends now. It was obvious how much Blade was hurting, though. "It wasn't your fault. We couldn't have known. Who'd think an archway would send the soul of whoever walked through it to Hael?"

"It was my failing and yours," Blade snapped. "Why did you allow her to go first?"

Red winced. "I didn't. She just went first. You know how she-"

"Excuses." Blade gently laid Nira's soulless, yet still living body on the cloak he'd removed.

"It might not work," Red said. "It could be a trap-"

"I know," Blade said, looking down at the woman he loved. "It makes no difference. Inform the Vice Commander if we do not return."

Then he walked into the portal.

Red dropped down next to Nira, taking one of her hands. "I'm so sorry, Rook."

***

The Cacophant laughed. "Why should I release her? The suffering you're giving off at being seperated is delicious."

"You will let her go." It wasn't a suggestion. Blade tried to see behind the Endarkened, to Nira, but after the first fleeting glance, she had been out of view. From what he'd seen, in appearance Nira looked the same except she was translucent, her coloring muted. Perhaps mute in voice as well; her mouth had moved but no sound had corresponded. Even that brief glimpse had told him how worried she was for him.

"Accept my challenge," Blade said. " If I win, you let me take her soul back to our plane, free and clear, without demonic taint, where she will be restored to her body and unharmed."

"And when you lose? What would I get?" the demon asked.

"If I lose, you get my soul as well."

"So I could have two mortal playthings? I have to admit, a shade won't be as fun as you would. They're spirit, not flesh. She can't actually bleed."

The decision to challenge the Cacophant in combat for a chance to win back Nira's soul had been an easy one. Even if Blade's own soul was at stake should he lose.

"Will you make the bargain?" Blade was fighting all of his instincts not to just kill the demon. Eliminate the threat, then rescue Nira. But Antiqua had said to counter the magic used to sever Nira's soul from her body, the demon had to agree, had to let her go willingly.

"Yes."

"Swear it in your blood."

Then the battle began.

Nira's shade drifted out and shook her head at Blade emphatically, look saying clearly she didn't want him to risk it. Don't do it, she entreated.

He merely pricked his thumb to swear. The Endarkened did the same.

***

It didn't take long. Blade Bronwyn was always a force to be reckoned with in battle and when he was fighting for the woman he loved, it was no contest. He bloodied the demon, disarmed him, punished him, but stopped himself from making the kill.

"Do as you promised," the former assassin said, blue edged blade at the demon's throat.

The Cacophant sneered, even in defeat. "You can leave with her, but you must never look back, must never approach her. IF you look back, Hael gets to keep her. Forever."

The shade of Nira looked at Blade with love and smiled reassuringly at him since she couldn't speak, We can do this, her eyes said and he felt his heart shatter. Gods, he loved that woman. Enough to risk his life, his soul.

He nodded at her, heart in his eyes and determination in his movements. He strode down the dark tunnel, hoping that Nira was behind him. Trusting that the demon actually let her go.

He knew it wouldn't be easy. He had no faith in the word of men let alone a demon's, but he would get Nira back. For her, he would do anything, risk anything.

Two steps into the tunnel, and he heard phantom whispers in his ears. The death cries of those he had killed, their pleas, their phantom hands tugging at his arms.

"Why?...Please don't!...I beg you!..." Different voices spoke in his ears, reliving their last moments.

Blade's face was set. Expressionless. He continued walking.

"How could you betray your brother?" his father's voice suddenly asked from behind him. "After everything we sacrificed?"

Blade's jaw and fists clenched, but he kept moving. He could withstand anything for Nira, even when he felt the icy grip of phantom hands.

"We were so proud of you," his mother's voice whispered in his ear, a cold hand stroking his hair. "Of you and Gladius."

Blade flinched. He'd nearly forgotten their voices, but he knew them now. Would they look as they did in life? He'd never find out. He couldn't look back.

"You're lost now, Blade," she continued. "Let us show you the way."

"Go fuck yourself, demon," Blade gritted out. For a moment, the wind was the only sound in the dark tunnel.

And then his mother's voice hummed a lullaby he hadn't known he remembered.

He kept moving, even when the humming turned to screaming and his fists were clenched so hard his nails gouged his palm.

He couldn't hear Nira behind him, but then again, he never had. She had to be there. She had to be.

Then silence. The quiet was almost worse; he could only hear his own breathing which was harsh.

"Blade, please, help me!" It was Nira's voice.

Commander Bronwyn stopped walking for the first time. She sounded so frightened; he had never heard her that way.

"I'm stuck, the demon isn't letting me go forward! Please come back! Don't leave me!"

It was the hardest thing he ever did, to start walking again despite her pleas. She is a spirit, she has no voice. It isn't her. Do. Not. Look.

"Blade, I need you. Don't you know I love you? I want to be with you!"

"And I you, which is why I am still walking," he said for the benefit of the true Nira, the Nira he hoped was following him.

"If you've ever loved me, you'll help me now! Please! Blade!"

Then the voice of Nira began to scream as if she were being tortured and Blade's entire body went tense, ready for battle, ready to kill what was harming her. Arma swirled to life in his system and his hand was on his sword, gripping it tight enough to be painful.

Please, he thought.

Please don't let it be her calling for him. Let it be a trick. He had never felt such fear, fear he was failing her, fear he was going to lose her. Fear he was making the wrong choice.

The scream was the same as before.

Blade had gone scouting ahead through the ruins. He'd just turned back to head for Nira and Antiqua. Then he heard it.

A heart stopping scream that was undeniably Nira's.

He ran, arriving in time to see her body drop lifeless to the ground.

"No," he said out loud. That was the past. He was not going to lose her again.

Blade forced his feet to move, teeth grinding, jaw clenched as he had to listen to cries of pain and moans from Nira's voice.

Just walk. Move. Continue.

Finally, there was a shimmer of light ahead. The portal.

No matter how much it caused him pain to hear her agony and do nothing.

He wasn't sure how long he could stand it. Her voice was sobbing now, the sad, broken cries of the betrayed.

"Almost there, Nira. Stay close to me," Blade said before he strode forward into the light. "Stay with me."

***

Red had tucked a blanket around Nira's body, and he looked up when Blade emerged.

"Nira?" He asked.

The Commander walked away from the portal and dropped to his knees and waited, not answering. He stared at the portal. Please.

Nothing.

"Gods," Red whispered.

Then there was a shimmer and Nira's shade stepped through.

There was a burst of light that blinded them all, then the Portal was gone.

Blade had Nira's body in his arms again. Red hadn't even seen him move.

She stirred. Green eyes opened.

"Nira," he breathed, one hand stroking her hair, her jawline.

"Blade," she whispered, putting a hand up to cup his cheek. "That wasn't me. I'm here, I'm fine, thanks to you. You came for me."

"I'll always come for you when you need me. No matter what, I'll be there."

Then they were kissing.

***

"You know I'd never want you to risk your soul for mine, right?" Nira asked later, as Blade carried her back to their camp.

"Yes. It didn't factor into my decision," Blade replied.

She was wrapped in his cloak and the blanket Red had provided. She'd tried to tell him she wasn't cold, but it hadn't mattered. I don't need a shroud, she'd started to joke, but his eyes stopped her.

Nira shook her head at him. "And you know I can walk, right?"

"I am not putting you down."

"Ever?" She asked playfully. Her default reaction to her own trauma was to shrug it off, joke it away.

"Not for some time," he replied. His voice, though most likely clipped as usual to anyone else, still sounded strained to her.

Nira was relieved Red had gone ahead to find a healer, even if she didn't need one. It meant she was free to wrap her arms around Blade's neck and kiss his cheekbone without embarrassing anyone. She held him tight.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "That it happened, that you had to go through that-"

"Don't. I'd fight all of Hael to keep you at my side. I apologize that it happened. I should have prevented it."

Nira placed her head on his shoulder, easy enough in the bridal carry he had her in. "There was no way to see the trap. I'm a Mage and I didn't."

"You shouldn't have gone through that."

"You shouldn't have had to hear everything you did in that tunnel! That was the worst for me. Not my soul being dragged to Hael, just hearing what you were going through and not being able to touch you, reassure you."

Blade hefted her higher in his arms so he could rest his chin on the top of her head. "I would do anything for you."

"I'd do anything for you, too."

There was a pause.

"Besides," Blade continued. "The false you kept saying please and I knew that you are more inclined to order me around without a polite phrase attached especially when you're worried."

Nira gasped then laughed out loud. "Carry me to our tent immediately, then, Commander."

"Of course," he said. "To see a healer."

"Blade…"

"Yes?"

"I love you. And I'm okay. I promise."

"I love you, too. Don't do that to me again. That is an order."

"I'll try to avoid having my soul dragged out of my body, trust me."

"Don't try, just avoid it."

"Alright," she said, finding comfort in the way he was holding her, in his sandalwood and metal scent.

He continued to hold her after they made it to the tent. Blade was loathe to let her go again.

End.

[danielsullivan]

QUICK RED BC ....Red i’m in love w you .....pls tell him that @shepherds-of-haven

[euphoniousgoob]

The Power of Love

Blade Bronwyn/Arainia Ravenwood

A/N: I'm mostly joking with that title. After reading the medallion scene in chapter 7 of @shepherds-of-haven I got stuck with a very persistent plot bunny: what would happen if MC insisted on trying again but it went wrong? Deep crushing stage I guess. Characters belong to @shepherds-of-haven

Blade may be a little ooc. Arainia is an enchanter described as having dark eyes, and pinchable cheeks.

Blade stares. He stands and he stares. Because what else can he do?

Arainia sits cross-legged on the floor, Antiqua beside her, the medallion held loosely between her finger tips. Her dark eyes are unfocused, darting around watching a scene unfold only visible to her eyes. He doubts it's a happy one. Her eyebrows are furrowed, a little crease forming between her hazy eyes. He wants to smooth it away, he wants to see her smile. She let's out a tiny whimper, her eyes flickering faster. He tenses.

Trouble and Chase stand guard near by. Well, Trouble stands. Chase leans languidly against the rock wall, but his eyes are sharp as they keep watch on their surroundings.

He stares. How long has it been? 20 minutes? A half hour? Something is wrong. He can feel it, the dark pressure surrounding them. They're in enemy territory, and she's vulnerable. He can't do anything, except wait. Wait for the vision to end, wait for her to return to them, to him. To give him that special smile, his favorite one, the smile that is his and only his. Not the one she always gives, where her eyes are filled with mirth and affection as she smiles cheekily up at him. That one usually earns her a quick pinch. Her cheek, sometimes her waist, both granting him the precious gift of her laughter. No, his favorite smile, his smile is the soft one, a gentle upturn of the corners of her mouth, her eyes warm and tender, filled with an unspeakable emotion. The one she gives him during quiet evenings spent in his office, each getting on with their own work, occasionally looking over to share a smile or a soft word. The one that makes his heart pound and his stomach churn. He waits. He hates it. But he'll do it, for her.

She'd insisted on trying again. Her first attempt at using the medallion to divine what happened to Kaidir had been successful but vague and she'd wanted to try again, to try and see more. One look. That was all it took. One look and a little pout, and he'd folded.

Her breath speeds up. Antiqua stirs beside her and all eyes flick to him.

"Somethings wrong."

"She's been under too long, it... it shouldn't take this long for her..." he trails off, his frown deepening as his fingers reach to grip her wrist, trying to coax a reaction from the woman beside him.

He knew it.

Liefred's voice is quiet as he speaks, his eyes roving over Arainia's face with a concerned frown.

Blade frowns and steps closer. He knew something was wrong, he could feel it.

"What do we do?" He asks sharply, his eyes never leaving Arainia's face. Not what can we do, not what should we do. What do we do. How does he fix this? He needs to fix this.

"What's wrong with her?" Trouble asks at the same time, moving closer to the trio. He glances over at Chase who gives a brief nod and stays where he is, staying guard. Antiqua shifts onto his knees, his fingers gently probing her temples. She wobbles slightly where she sits and he shifts to support her as Trouble crouches next to him.

"I'm not entirely sure."

Blade isn't sure which question Liefred is answering but the mage continues mumbling to himself before he can clarify.

"I... I think she's trapped. I can try and pull her out myself but my psionic skills aren't as strong as hers, I'm not sure what good I can do..." He trails off, eyes sliding closed as he mutters to himself, brows furrowed in concentration.

Silence falls and stretches for minutes which feel like hours before his eyes open again.

"She's stuck," he says simply. Mildly. As if it wasn't a big deal.

The crease between her eyes deepens and her teeth catch her bottom lip as she whines. Blade clenches his hands into fists, tearing his eyes away from her. It's barely a second before his eyes finds her face again.

"Stuck?" Chase raises an eyebrow as he glances over, not moving from his spot at the entrance to their small camp.

"What do you mean?" Trouble asks, voice  rough with concern as his eyes flick between Arainia and Liefred, who sighs and drops his hands onto his knees.

"Well I mean exactly that. She's stuck in his mind, in his memories. Divination is a tricky skill to master, one of the hardest if not the hardest. Even I had difficulty while we were in the circle and almost failed-"

"Unbelievable that..." Blade mutters under his breath sarcasm coating each word, sharing a glance with Trouble who frowns to hide the smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

"-but Arainia picked it up pretty quickly, and offered to help me." Antiqua continued as if Blade hadn't spoken.

"But why is she stuck? She didn't get stuck last time she did this. And like you said, she's talented." Trouble points out.

"Well she's an enchanter, not a diviner. And-"

"But she can still divine stuff? We've seen her do it."

"Yes. Arainia's an incredibly talented enchanter and since its in the same order as divination a lot of the same basic principles apply. They both involve dealing with psychic energies and powers of the mind. The strongest enchanters can probe their opponents' memories, and of course divination involves-"

"We know, move on Red."

"Well even mages who specialise in divination can struggle, especially if the memories are traumatic. They can be overwhelming, and it can be hard to distinguish between what's real and what's not. Its like you become one, their memories become yours, you experience what they experienced. Its easy to lose oneself."

He meets Blade's gaze and sits back on his legs.

"I did tell you that it was a bad idea. After the first divining she was already in Kaidir's headspace, so slipping back into his mind was easier but it also made her more susceptible to secondhand trauma. Their minds are assimilating and its like his trauma is becoming her trauma, until she can't tell the difference."

"So basically trauma by osmosis?" Trouble asks, glancing at the mage, a small grin on his face. "Traumosis?"

He sighs and squeezes the bridge of his nose.

"Well... its a little more complicated than that. But yes, she's reliving his memories as if they were her own, much like divination. But she has no control over it, she can't bring herself back out to the real world. The lines are blurred. And the longer she's under the harder it'll be for her to realign herself with her own memories. Its an interesting topic to research, I've never seen it in person, but there was this mage Anoran, who was an incredible powerful wild-mage, xe noticed several similarities between monkeys and xemself, and developed a theory that monkeys and all races share a common ancestor and so xe decided to try and-"

"Focus Red."

"How do we help her?!"

Blade snaps, glaring at the mage. If he clenched his jaw any tighter he was sure to break a tooth. Ignoring the worried look from Trouble, and the knowing glance from Chase, he continued to glare at Antiqua until he answered.

"She needs to remember-"

"Remember? You mean she doesn't know who she is?" Trouble's worried gaze slid from Blade to Arainia and back again.

"It's more like she doesn't associate her memories with who she is. Currently she's more attached to Kaidir's memories than her own. So we need to help her reform an emotional attachment to her own memories, which will help her reconnect with herself and allow her to bring herself back."

"And... how exactly do we do that? Reminisce?"

"Take a pleasant stroll down memory lane?"

Blade stays quiet, listening intently, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Basically, yes. Though the memories need a strong emotion attached to the memory, the stronger the better."

Chase pushes himself away from the wall and steps closer as he speaks

"Well... if it's strong emotions you need, we all know Spike has-" Blade growls, glaring at him. "-dont give me that look. You're the closest to her, you try first."

"Hey! What about me? I'm pretty close to her!" Trouble interjects.

"You've got deep emotional memories with Sunshine? Aw Trubs, you're gonna make Spike jealous."

Blade just barely resists the impulse to roll his eyes as he crouches in front of her, his hands clenching again as the familiar urge to reach out to her nearly overwhelms him.

"We rescued those kids together, back when she first joined up. That was emotional!"

"Maybe try memories that won't retraumtise her. It might be better if the commander handles this," Red interjects, his eyes moving to gaze at the stoic commander. "Or I could do it? Recent memories are stronger but our time in the circle might be enough."

Blade ignores him as best as he can, focusing instead on Arainia in front of him as he takes a breath. He can do this. He needs to do this. He clears his throat and tries.

"Your name is Arainia Ravenwood, you're a captain in the Shepherds of Haven-"

"Emotional memories, Blade," Trouble chuckles.

Blade throws a frown over his shoulder before his attention returns to Arainia. He takes a deep breath. He can do this. He needs to do this. He tries again.

"You..." he pauses and takes another breath. Start small, start simple. "You like honeyed milk before bed, and that rosy tea that Shery buys in the morning, you take it with a little sugar and a dash of lemon. You can't stand the taste of khav, but adore the smell, so you almost always eat in the rectory. You grow flowers in your room because they remind you of home."

Her hands fly to her cheeks as she gasps and whines in pain, her body twisting to try and get away as whatever she sees worsens. Her eyes flick left and right, left and right. He grasps her wrists, holding them gently as he pulls them away from her face and folds them towards her chest. She fights against his grip weakly, trying to pull her small hands away from him, whimpers falling from her lips, still trapped by whatever nightmare of Kaidir's she is witnessing.

Too small, too simple. He needs more, more emotion, stronger emotion.

"You tuck Caine into bed every night. He thinks we don't know, so he makes you sneak in and out. You tell him stories, or read to him. Sometimes you sing. And then you'll stay, until you're sure he's asleep. I... I think its as much for you as it is for him."

Her eyelids slowly drop closed, only for a second. When they flick back open her eyes are trained in his direction, still unfocused but its a start.

"It's working!" Antiqua exclaims almost sounding surprised, earning a glare from Blade. He rubs the back of his neck nervously before continuing.

"I mean I assumed it would. But then I've never tried to do something like this before, I've never had to try it. You should keep going. Stopping and starting might make her lose focus and that'll ruin whatever progress you've made. Which is-"

"Red, breathe!"

"Stop talking."

Trouble speaks at the same time as Blade, humor in his voice despite the situation. Whereas Blade's voice is low and flat, the mage starting to wear on his nerves without Arainia acting as a barrier.

He sighs and focuses back on her, hesitating only for a moment before speaking the first thing that comes to mind.

"You come to my office every Carnimday after dinner. You sit in your chair and read while I finish off my paperwork. You said it's so you can bully me into going to bed at a reasonable hour. It rarely works, you usually end up falling asleep first and I don't want to wake you. I..." his eyes flick to where his friend crouches next to him. He can feel his cheeks turning pink as he prepares to ignore the knowing looks he's about to receive. "I keep a blanket in my office for you, because you hate being cold."

He feels 3 sets of eyes turn to him, but he keeps going. He puts his embarrassment aside, Arainia needs him.

"... knew he played favorites." Chase's whisper makes its way to his ears just as Arainia stops resisting, her arms falling limp in her lap, only being held up by his hands circling her wrists. The retort disappears before he could spit it in the thief's direction. It's working.

"You wake up extra early on Melarsdays to join me on my morning run. You insist on racing everytime, despite my protests. You always lose, but you just laugh and say that next time will be the time you win."

She relaxes, and so does he.

"You drag me out of the office every Lhunday, insisting I spend time with our friends."

The memories are falling fast from his lips as her eyes get clearer with every word his speaks. It's working.

"When our days off align, we spend them together. We go to the market, or sometimes, sometimes we just walk. And you tell me about your day, how your training is going. About what you're looking forward to."

He brings her hands to his face, pressing them against his warm cheeks and rests his forehead against hers. Blocking out everyone, everything, except the two of them. Ignoring the glances and the mutters. They don't matter. She's the only thing that matters right now. He can see her eyes clearing, filling with tears and she comes back to him. She let's out a breath. He feels the warmth on his face, reminding him that she is alive, that this is working. It's... intimate almost. And if he could spare a single moment to think about how this looks from the outside, he'd combust but Arainia's thumbs brush along the curve of his cheekbones and it keeps him grounded in his mission. Her eyes close as he continues, his voice barely a whisper.

"You ask me questions, about me, about what I like and don't like... about my past. And I answer them, all of them, because... because I trust you. I trust you with my back, my life, with my truth. And I need you here. With me. I can't lose you, not like this. So you have to come back. Come back to me..."

He trails off, squeezing his eyes closed as his heart clenches and his stomach flips.

"Blade?"

Her voice is soft, and scratchy. Music to his ears. The relief in the air is palatable as everyone let's out a sigh as one. He forces his eyes open to meet hers, the adrenaline fading leaving his body feeling weak and exhausted. Her eyes are clear and focused on him, glimmering with tears that slowly drip down her cheeks. He let's go of her wrists to delicately wipe them away with the tips of his fingers as they fall, he's never been happier to see her cry.

He let's out a breathless laugh, sliding his fingers around to grip the back of her neck.

"Welcome back, Arainia."

There it is. That smile, his smile. And then it hits him. The air is knocked out of him, as his head spins and his heart thuds in his chest.

He never understood what those poems meant, the ones he reads when he's alone. The ones Arainia read to him. Love has always been beyond the scope of his comprehension. He never understood why he wanted, needed, to be close to her. Why sometimes it was like he couldn't speak, couldn't think, couldn't breathe around her. Why he thought of her first thing in the morning, or why her face was the last thing he saw at night. But now, seeing that smile, its like the sun has come out from behind the clouds, dazzling him with its brightness and warmth. And... oh. It clicks into place and he knows. He knows what this is, what this means. What he doesn't know is what he's going to do, or say, or how to act like everything is normal, like everything is the same. Because its not. Because he loves her. He's in love with her. With Arainia, his Arainia.

Everything has changed, and yet, at the same time, nothing has changed. Because it feels like he has always loved her, it feels like she's always been a part of his life, of his routine.

He reaches up with his free hand and gently, carefully, lovingly pinches her cheek.

"Don't you ever do that again. Thats an order."

[oderu]

IM REPLAYING AND I FORGOT THIS HAPPENED . SO IM JUST IMAGINING CHASE BLADE AND AYLA WATCHING AWKWARDLY AS SPARKLES GLOW AROUND MC AND RED DFNJKJSDF

[natkidding]

trying to Manifesting free time, heres a sketch of red 😭

[queen-scribbles]

The Long Burning Torch ch 6

Big thanks to @emeraldgreaves for help with remembering some names/descriptions for this behemoth of a chapter for my  @shepherds-of-haven 20s AU. (9500 words. Have fun y’all I sure did) ---

The drive was, of course, uneventful. Wasn’t really long enough to be otherwise, though Xaeryn did peek a couple times for the car that tried to follow her on her first visit to the museum. They chatted about simple things; books they were reading, classes Red was teaching, one or two of Xaeryn’s past cases.

It was after she handed the car off to the valet and they’d been granted entry by the door staff that Xaeryn brought up one of her more mundane curiosities. 

“Liefred, I’ve been wondering...” she began as she found a good spot where she could watch arrivals without being obvious about it, waiting for his soft hum of acknowledgement. “With Pan being the one who drove into the city-”

“Yes, I know how to drive, Xaer,” Red laughed. “I just don’t have much need and so don’t own a car. I asked Pan to borrow his, but when he found out why I wanted it, he asked to come along to see you and Neon. Why?”

“Just curious. With your skill at translocating, but the inherent risks of that skill, I could see it going either way.” Xaeryn settled herself between a painting of the previous autarch and a display case containing a glided lance where she had a good view of the door.

“I’m probably a tad rusty at this point,” Red conceded with a wry smile. “The other reason I let Pan drive. But I do know the basics.”

“Good to know.” Her focus was caught by an arriving cluster of guests. Time to work.

“Someone catch your eye?” Red murmured, seeing where her gaze had gone.  “Or just getting a general match of faces and names?”

“The latter,” she said. “In case there’s anyone I need to talk to aside from the planned conversations, I won’t have to wander around like a fool looking for them.” 

“Always covering your bases,” he said with a soft, fond laugh.

“Makes me life easier down the road,” Xaeryn shrugged with a smile. Her attention was pulled from the entrance by a flurry of rose-petal pink.

“Miss Shrike, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Miss Acquell commented brightly as she approached. She winced briefly, then smiled, pushing her spectacles back up her nose. “I’m happy to, of course, but-”

“I knew what you meant,” Xaeryn broke in gently. “Whitestone Couriers were kind enough to secure my entry so I could continue my investigation.” She gave Red’s arm a light squeeze. “And this is my friend Liefred Antiqua. He’s Headmaster of Solhadur Academy, and gracious enough to accompany me on short notice. Liefred, Shery Acquell, museum curator.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Red said holding out one hand, “and you’re welcome to call me Red.”

“Oh, charmed as well,” Miss Acquell said, shaking his hand and dropping an abbreviated curtsy that bobbed both the frills on her rosy dress and the loose curls of hair. “And you can call me Shery.” She looked up at Xaeryn, bit her lip.  “Would... this investigating involve talking to guests?”

Xaeryn nodded. “There’s a couple. Ms. Aescar, for one, if she shows. But I promise to be discreet and courteous. The last thing I want, for my sake and the museum’s, is to cause a scene. I work better the less I stand out.”

“Good,” Miss Acquell sighed. “Thank you.” She looked a touch frazzled, Xaeryn noted, despite the evening having just begun.

“Everything alright, Shery?” she probed, watching for tells there was something the curator was leaving unsaid. 

“Oh, this sort of event is just... a lot for me,” Miss Acquell said with a bashful laugh. “But they’re good publicity for the museum, so I’ll manage,” she smiled, adjusting her spectacles again. “Even if my assistants seem to have vanished again...” She waved a hand when Xaeryn started to speak. “I’m sure they’ll turn up.  Like as not just helping new arrivals or something similar. It’ll be fine.”

“Of course it will,” Red smiled, gestured at the room, “you’ve done an excellent job with the set up, I’m sure the evening will be wonderful.”

“Thank you,” Miss Acquell said, tension easing slightly from her shoulders at the warmth in his voice. Xaeryn smiled to herself at how easily he had that effect on people. “I have some things I need to check on, but Miss Shrike, good to see you and Red, good to meet you.” She was off in a whirl before either could reply.

Red nodded toward the door, where a lavender-haired socialite and a pair of full Hunters had just arrived, heading toward the main crowd of now-assembled gentry. “I believe it’s time to mingle, Miss Shrike, so it doesn’t raise brows when you start interrogating people.”

She fought for composure past the mirth in his eyes. “I will have informative conversations, Headmaster Antiqua,” she said loftily, fighting a smile. “Just because I’m not gifted to do it as smoothly as you doesn’t mean I’ll muff it entirely.”

“I know, I know,” Red assured her with a grin. “First rate snoop and bees’ knees when it comes to digging out what you need to know.” He held out his arm.  “Shall we mingle?”

“If we must,” Xaeryn sighed with only marginally exaggerated dismay, slipping her arm through his as they headed to strike up conversation.

---

The mingling went well. Having Red at her side helped polish some of the rough edges to Xaeryn’s conversational skills, and she found herself warming with only slight reluctance to the concept of small talk. When he finally broke off to go gape at an artefact that caught his eye--a gigantic sphere of green-patinaed metal--she let him go. She knew him well enough to know he’d been practically squirming with anticipation for at least ten minutes.

She turned her attention to a nearby pair of paintings. Her own artistic talents might lie more in the direction of sketching, but she did appreciate other mediums, and these were both gorgeous examples.

“Magnificent, aren’t they?” The speaker proved to be the lavender-haired socialite she’d seen entering earlier. Faint auburn roots only just peered through in a couple places, making the hair color a choice rather than gift of nature. Interesting. Not many Norms chose to associate with something so common among Diminished. “I’ve always loved her use of color,” she continued, gesturing to the paintings.

Xaeryn nodded. “As do I. She makes it a point to use light and shadow to full effect and the results are..” she glanced at the left-hand portrait, a sunrise over Haven that made her chest ache it was so well done. “...breathtaking. Are these your contribution to the exhibit, then?”

“Oh, no, darling,” the woman laughed. “My support has been strictly financial.” She toyed with her silver edged fan and smiled. “I simply noted a fellow admirer of Mme. Laryia’s works and couldn’t resist a chat.”

“It is keen to find someone with similar interests at an event like this,” Xaeryn agreed. She studied the other portrait, a dazzling depiction of light through the trees over an Elven city. Vale, maybe? It looked like artistic vision rather than one specific location.

“It is, indeed.” The fan flipped open and closed. “I believe there are more of her works throughout the exhibit, as accent to other displays.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Xaeryn said, sensing their conversation nearing its end.

That was confirmed a moment later when a man with sky blue hair swept back in a low tail approached and offered the woman a champagne flute. “Sorry for the wait, people are chatty tonight.”

“It’s alright, Rhy,” she took it with a smile, “As you can see, I managed to occupy myself.” She smiled at Xaeryn and linked her arm through her escort’s. “It was nice chatting with you.”

“And you,” Xaeryn smiled back, not at all ruffled by the dismissal. Brief and polite was how she preferred her bull sessions.

Besides, taking in the portraits had moved her close enough to not draw attention if she chose to chat with Ms. Aescar, who was currently not engaged in conversation, and she didn’t want to pass up a chance at a one on one talk with the elusive heiress. Hers had been an easy entrance to mark, even from halfway across the room--she came alone, for starters, and her dress was far more sheer than anything Haven fashion would dare offer. She’d also arranged herself in one of the more distant edges of the hall where she could see anyone approach. An instinct no doubt born of coming from the Jalis desert and honed through years of traveling solo.

She saw the moment Ms. Aescar noted her approach, and was encouraged when she didn’t act to avoid an interaction, even if she looked less than thrilled it was occurring.

“And what do you want?” Ms. Aescar asked bluntly, folding wiry muscled arms over her chest as she arched a brow at Xaeryn. 

“Just a chat, Ms. Aes-”

“Ayla,” she interrupted. 

“Ayla, then,” Xaeryn corrected herself, silently lamenting the number of people on this case who insisted on informality. What did they have against etiquette?  “My name is Xaeryn Shrike, and I wanted to talk about your artefact in this exhibit.”  She gestured at the room.

“Yeah, haven’t seen it yet, d’they do a good job with the display?” Ms. Aescar asked.

“Actually,” Xaeryn began, remembering her call to the Aescar estate, how Marja had said Ms. Aescar might not even know Solimer’s Torch was missing. “It isn’t here. It was stolen after arriving in the city and I’ve been hired to find it.”

“Oh,” Ms. Aescar grunted, her brows twitching. “Ironic after how much that Syndran fella went on about their security measures.”

“Mr. Syndran is the one who hired me,” Xaeryn said. She’d seen him and Ms. Aerin across the room but not yet had a chance to chat. “He’s doing his utmost to ensure its retrieval.” 

“Thanks for that, I guess,” Ms. Aescar muttered, leaning back against the wall. “If it’s missin’, why do you wanna talk to me?”

“To see if any other attempts have been made,” Xaeryn explained, grateful for the distance from the main party for this chat. “Has anyone recently tried to buy it or steal it or anything like that?”

“I’ve had a few offers to buy it over the years,” Ms. Aescar said with a shrug.  “The whole ownership mess that keeps cropping up. There was a break-in attempt Marja told me about maybe a year ago? I wasn’t home at the time. But the bastards didn’t make it inside the estate, so we dunno what they were after.” 

“And were any of the purchase offers... serious?” Xaeryn probed. She glanced around the room, checking to see if their conversation was raising any eyebrows. Red was still making a slow, awestruck loop of the sphere, Mr. Syndran was chatting with Miss Acquell, but she didn’t see any ears pricked to her and Ms. Aescar.

“Couple weren’t overly keen when I turned ‘em down,” Ms. Aescar said with another shrug. “If that’s what you mean. None of ‘em were high enough to give serious consideration.” 

“Hmmm. Xaeryn bit her lip. “I have to confess I’m a bit confused, then, Ayla. Ms. Aerin mentioned you were... less concerned about security than many of their clientele. Why is that, if you find the Torch too valuable to sell?”

“Not so much ‘unconcerned’ as figuring they know how to do their damn job without me stickin’ my nose in.” Ms. Aescar snorted. “Figured wrong there. My parents had an attachment to that piece before they... passed, so I hold on to it for them. I like the thought of it seein’ the world, like I do, so I let museums play host for a while each. And worryin’ about it when it’s in supposedly capable hands would keep me from enjoyin’ my trips, so I don’t worry.”

“Must be nice to travel so much,” Xaeryn said, playing with one of her earrings as memories of her own travels stirred in her mind. “I was a bit of a wanderer myself until I had to settle down to pay the bills.”

“It’s a good life,” Ms. Aescar agreed readily. “Seen some amazing places. You ever make it to the Ivory Isles?”

“No, sadly, the ticket was a bit out of my price range, but I’ve seen Courtshore, which was lovely.” She glanced around again. “No escort tonight?”

“No need,” Ms. Aescar snorted, her eyes glinting. “I can take care of myself. And unless yours is invisible, you don’t appear to have any room to talk.”

“Not invisible, just a history buff,” Xaeryn laughed, pointing at Red. “This gala is like a candy store to him, the least I can let him do for coming with me is look around.”

“Candy store you’re allowed to touch.”

“Heh, true.” Xaeryn watched Red a moment longer. biting back a smile at his enthusiasm. “Just one more question-” She stumbled to a verbal halt when she found Ms. Aescar smirking at her. “What?”

“I’ll be you two make a real cute couple,” Ms. Aescar snarked.

“Oh, we’re not... together like that,” Xaeryn fumbled as her neck grew hot. “He’s a friend.”

“You’re goggling him the same way he’s gogglin’ that statue or whatever the fuck it’s supposed to be,” Ms. Aescar informed her. “He know you’re stuck on him?”

“Hopefully not,” Xaeryn said, trying valiantly to reclaim lost dignity. She hadn’t though she was nearly so obvious. “As I was saying, Ms. Aes-”

“Ayla.”

“Ayla, I just have one more question and then I’ll leave you alone. You wouldn’t happen to recall who made any of the purchase offers on Solimer’s Torch, would you?”

“There was a warlord from Jalis I shut down damn quick,” Ms. Aescar replied promptly, “Couple collectors, one or two mutis tryin’ to claim ownership made offers before they started raisin’ a ruckus ‘bout it actually being theirs.”

“Who?” Xaeryn asked, mentally crossing her fingers. Depending on passage of time, this might be something of a long shot.

“One of those fuckers fighting over the island in the south-”

“Elinden?” Xaeryn offered, mental fingers crossed even harder.

“Yeah, that one. I think the other’n is somewhere east? But they don’t have much of a claim and didn’t make much of an offer, so I didn’t have them figured for serious and didn’t hang on to the name. We done?”

“Yes. Thank you, very much, for the enlightening conversation, Ayla.”

“Yeah, sure, hope it helps you find my artefact.”

“I’m fairly positive it will,” Xaeryn said, and hurried for a corner where she could scribble out some notes. Standing as she’d been to chat up Ms. Aescar, there hadn’t been a way to take them as she talked.

“Industrious as always, I see,” Ms. Aerin commented, coming to a stop by the bench where Xaeryn had settled for her task. Between her heels and her posture, she almost seemed to loom, which was an... interesting reversal. 

“I am here to work,” Xaeryn pointed out. “Enjoying the party” --or at least its locale-- “is a bonus, but the job comes first.” She filled a page with shorthand notation before flipping the notepad closed.

“Did you fill the other one so fast?” Ms. Aerin asked.

She frowned. “Pardon?”

“Your notebook,” Ms. Aerin nodded to the red-bound pad as Xaeryn slipped it in her clutch. “It’s new. Did you really fill the other so quickly?”

Now Xaeryn’s brows arched toward her hairline. She knew the woman was sharp-eyed, but the brief glimpse still wouldn’t have been enough for most to notice.  “Impressive catch, and no, I didn’t fill it. My handbag was stolen.”

“The red is a bit more eye-catching a color than previous,” Ms. Aerin brushed off the praise with a furrowing brow. “And do you mean to tell me some... rapscallion out there now has all your notes?!”

“Only if he didn’t discard them as worthless,” Xaeryn said dryly. “Even if he could read my shorthand, I can’t imagine I have anything recorded that would interest a dip.”

“Ah, yes, your little trick to ensure no one but you reads your notes,” Ms. Aerin said, adjusting her bracelets. “I’m even more grateful for it now.”

“Well, me and Red,” Xaeryn reminded, with a vague wave toward where she’d seen him. “I’m surprised you would forget that, since it was of such concern to you that your trade secrets stay secrets.” 

“I have a lot on my plate, as you know, Detective Shrike,” Ms. Aerin said tartly. “I was swayed by your assurances our secrets would be safe. Should I have believed differently?”

“Not at all,” Xaeryn said. “None of them will escape as a result of this.”

“Glad to hear it, Detective.” Ms. Aerin flashed a distracted smile and glanced across the room. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on some things with Miss Acquell. And I’m certain you have more to do.”

“Of course. Good to see you, Ms. Aerin.”

“And you, Detective Shrike.”

They parted, and Xaeryn decided it would be wise to check back in with Red before she continued her mingling. He was, despite the length of her absence, still staring at the large sphere that had caught his eye.

“Must be quite a find to hold your interest for this long,” she teased, coming to stand next to him.

“This is a Worldwalker artefact, Ryn,” he replied, not looking away from his study of the etching that covered the surface. “I’d give my left arm and my tenure to have a month to study it.”

Xaeryn smiled, heart skipping a beat as she watched him him. Like a kid at Wintersun, she thought fondly. “You could talk to Shery, you know. And if the museum was amenable to it being studied, I doubt she would require so hefty a payment.”

“Just my left arm, then?” Red joked, though the sparkle in his eyes when he looked at her made her wonder if he half-meant it. “Might be worth it.” He turned to face her fully. “Did you need me for something?”

“No,” Xaeryn shook her head, “just wanted to see how you were doing, maybe talk to someone I know and like for a minute.”

He chuckled. “I’ll happily fill some of your time, Xaer. How go the informative conversations?”

Her heart skipped again, trying not to think about Ms. Aescar’s comment.  “Very informative, actually. There have been parties interested in the torch, including the one you mentioned I should look into.”

“That is informative,” he agreed, offering her his arm. She slipped hers through without a second thought, and they started a turn around the room. Leisurely pace, looking at artefacts as they walked. “You have an awful lot pointing in the same direction, then.”

“I do, indeed.” She glanced over toward King Kaza of Elinden, currently engrossed in chatting with a politician she vaguely recognized--Jarreth, Jarket, something like that, his pink-haired companion standing close but her eyes clearly alight at the pageantry involved in a gala. “Now I just need a chance to talk to him. I feel like he wouldn’t take kindly to an interruption.”

“Suppose you’ll have to talk to me longer, then,” Red said with a wink as they slowed by a display case housing a beautiful, broken silver javelin. “If you think you can manage it.”

“I’ll find a way to muddle through,” Xaeryn laughed. As if you aren’t the only one here I really want to talk to. “Surrounded by this much history, I’m sure we can mange one of those hours-long talks we had in school.” Her brow furrowed when she read the display placard. “A hraqa?!”

Red’s brows arched and he studied the weapon with new intensity. “I didn’t think Hunters let those leave their side, let alone out of the Reach.”

“We don’t,” a gravelly, melodic voice said from nearby. “We were not given a choice in this instance.”

She looked up from the case, and then more to meet the gaze of the Hunter standing nearby, one of the pair she’d seen enter near the gala’s start, as if guarding the case. “How so?”

“This was taken as a prize of conquest during the Castigation,” the Hunter said grimly. “My family has spent generations trying to trace it, so it can be returned where it belongs. We finally learned of its inclusion in this... exhibit” --there was a barely noticeable trace of disdain on the word-- “with just enough time to attend and see what will be required to reclaim something that should never have left our care in the first place.” He caught himself with a faint grimace and inclined his head. “Forgive my manners. Sola Naolin Prince.” The words were paired with a shallow formal bow.

Xaeryn and Red introduced themselves in turn. “Are you planning to speak with the museum curator, then?”

Naolin gave a stiff nod. “And whomever else I need to; I understand this location is but one stop of many, so the decision may not rest entirely in her discretion.”

“You would be correct,” Xaeryn said. “Her authority only extends to which things are on display here and how. Though these are deeply personal weapons for you, aren’t they? You could petition for it to be removed from display while you speak with whoever claims ownership.”

In her periphery, she caught Red’s lips twitch toward a smile at her phrasing before he spoke. “I’d imagine it would be easier to repatriate than some things. Even with the... limited familiarity of Hunter customs, it’s known hraqa are sacred.” He frowned slightly. “I’m honestly surprised they would display it at all.”

“So I noticed,” Naolin said dryly, a touch of cynicism in his tone. “As you said, most don’t know much about our culture. I imagine a clever liar could spin a tale that would override any hesitance on the part of a curator. I do hope you’re correct that it will be a smooth process to reclaim, I shouldn’t be away from my duties as sola for long.” There was something in his silvery eyes that spoke to not letting that hope run too rampant, all the same. “Until I have opportunity to speak with someone, however, I intend to ensure this hraqa is afforded as close to its due respect as possible.”

“Admirable,” Xaeryn said, examining the hraqa again. There was an ancient, evocative beauty to its design. She could see how curators could be persuaded to display it. “Best of luck in your reclamation efforts, Sola Naolin. We won’t distract you any longer, but it was good chatting with you.”

“And you as well,” Naolin said with a formal half-bow.

Xaeryn and Red moved off, still arm in arm.

“You really think it’ll be that easy for him to get it back?” she asked idly, half-smiling as they passed the case with the necklace Thieves Guild had been planning to steal. 

“You don’t?” Red returned, shooting her a curious look.

“It might be less trouble than the mugs trying to claim the torch are having, just because there’s precedent for hraqas being culturally relevant and highly personal, bordering on religious, for Hunters. Arguing for its return to the Reach, to the people, won’t be hard. But if the person currently holding ownership finds a way to insist it be passed to an heir rather than the people as a whole if it’s so personal, they could muddy the waters and make it a good deal more difficult to untangle. Life’s not all berries, Liefred.”

“It’s not all rocks and hardship, either, Ryn,” he said with a fond smile that made her bite her lip. “I know the Hunters have kept themselves somewhat isolated since the Castigation and that makes them a bit more of a grey area than, say, Mages, but something like a hraqa has enough known significance they should be able to argue for the sol taking responsibility until the bloodline can be traced, if necessary.”

“Mm.” She did think he was being a trifle optimistic, but he also made a good point. “I’m sure that Shery would remove it from display, at least, if he asked. Spare having so intimate an aspect of their culture out there for the world to see.”

Red’s lips parted as if to say something, then he pressed them together and shook his head faintly. His attention was caught a moment later by a glass case displaying a trio of ancient tomes and their conversation was forgotten. “Is that what I think it is?!”

Xaeryn bit back a laugh as he tugged her along, grateful he remembered to walk instead of bolt over. “If you think it’s the collected work of Weyellan the Lifegiver, it appears the answer is yes.”

He flashed an almost sheepish smile as they slowed close to the case. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” she smiled. A glance across the room showed King Kaza finally done his conversation with the politician. “I’ll leave you to it,” she said, slipping her arm free, and couldn’t resist teasing a little. “Try not to leave nose prints on the glass.”

Red laughed and ran one hand through his hair. “I’ll do my best, but no promises.”

She clicked her tongue quietly and used her fingers to fix the tousled state of his hair before leaving. It was hard to miss the twinkle in his eye, and she wondered if that was over her actions, or the case full of old books.

To work again. Xaeryn shook off the thoughts as she approached King Kaza. His posture bore out accounts she’d read alluding to his arrogance, and he surveyed the room with hard eyes even as he leaned over to murmur in his companion’s ear. There was a sharpness, a cunning in those eyes that warned her to tread carefully in this conversation.

She inclined her head respectfully as soon as her approach caught his eye.  “Would I have the honor of addressing King Kaza Akshin, the Lightning-Cutter?” she asked, softening her tone to rather more awed than she actually felt. 

He smirked, brows arched as he gave a magnanimous nod. “You would. It is gratifying to see my name has spread so far.”

“It has certainly done that,” Xaeryn said. “How are you finding the gala?”

King Kaza’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Far more frivolous and shallow than anything we would host in Elinden,” his companion nudged him and he shot her a stormy look before continuing, “but I can see why the glamor would attract a crowd such as this. Very fancy.”

“Some people enjoy fancy parties. Highness,” his companion interjected, grimacing a little as she hastened to include the honorific.

“And when did I say I did not?” the king returned with a hard-edged chuckle.  “Different as it may be, there is much to be enjoyed even here.” He gestured at the hall, sweeping to include exhibits and guests alike. “Such a display of wealth. So many potential alliances.”

“Is that why you’re here, then?” Xaeryn asked, toying with her necklace.  “Looking for allies? I understand there’s still... turmoil in Elinden, and this would be a good crowd in which to find support. Wealthy, as you said, and... willing to contribute to something they find worthwhile.”

King Kaza’s eyes gleamed. “Very astute, Miss...” He arched a brow as the words trailed off.

“Forgive me, Circe Blackwood,” Xaeryn introduced herself. Something about the man--his reputation, the hardness of his eyes--cautioned she keep some cards close. An ace up her sleeve, as it were. “I’m glad you see something of value in this crowd. They are, after all, the reason this gala is occurring; contributors and financiers of a truly valuable celebration of culture and history. Always a smart thing to remember where we came from.”

“And which of those would you be, Circe?” There was challenge under the curiosity in the pink-haired woman’s voice.

“Oh, neither, Miss...?” Xaeryn laughed lightly to disguise the searching once-over. 

“Stormbreaker,” King Kaza replied before she opened her mouth. “My escort. Bodyguard, you would say. And what do you mean, neither?”

“I find things.” It was, technically, not a lie. Xaeryn refrained from commenting on the irony of someone known as Lightning-Cutter having a bodyguard named Stormbreaker. “I’ve helped the museum and a few others here locating things they sought.” Slightly closer to a lie, as that contract wasn’t past tense yet. “Do you need help finding anything? I’m very good at my job.”

King Kaza chuckled mirthlessly. “The only things I have sought I have found.”

“Lucky for you,” Xaeryn said with a wry laugh. Had pride flickered in his eyes with the comment? She definitely caught a muscle twitch in Stormbreaker’s jaw. “You can enjoy the party, take in the sights” --she gestured to the cases-- “maybe make some friends that will come in handy.”

“What do you know of Elinden’s situation, Miss Blackwood?” the king asked with a keen look. “To comment friends coming in handy?” 

“Powerful friends always come in handy,” she deflected, bobbing her head toward the politician he’d been chatting with earlier. She toyed with her necklace and parsed through what she’d learned for an answer that wouldn’t make him antsy. “I know Elinden’s been in a... multi-faction civil war for a while, that you claimed the throne, and that at least one other faction vocally challenges you.”

“More like three,” Kaza said, holding up fingers to emphasize. “This is why I seek friends; if other nations will recognize my claim, perhaps that will silence the dissenters. And, if not, perhaps it will give me in-roads to places more accepting of my authority.”

“Wise to play the angles,” Xaeryn said with a nod, watching Stormbreaker’s hands flex at her sides. “I hope you’ll also have time for a look around. With so many rare and beautiful things under one roof, surely there’s something to dazzle and catch your eye.”

“I am intrigued by the artefacts from Jalis, true.” The king tipped his head toward that portion of the room. “Quite striking that a number of their designs bear similarity to those of my home.”

“Perhaps a common ancestor?” Xaeryn suggested.

“Perhaps,” King Kaza shrugged. “But I have taken enough of your time, Miss Blackwood.”

“Oh, I always enjoy talking to keen folks like yourself, highness,” she said with a laugh. A flicker of movement caught her eye; Red was done examining the books and was heading her way. “But I do see my partner looking for me, so I’ll leave you to it.” She nodded a semi-formal farewell and turned to head for Red. She hadn’t said anything about a possibility of false names and needed him in the know before anyone chatted him up.

“Good talk?” he asked as they drew near, slowing to offer her his arm.

“Positively enlightening,” Xaeryn said with a smile, slipping her arm through his and taking the opportunity to lean in close. “If he or his companion strike up a conversation, I’m Circe Blackwood, I find things, and you’re my partner.”

“Do I get to contribute to this backstory?” Red laughed, taking it in stride.

“Any way you like,” Xaeryn replied lightly. “In fact, I’m curious to see what your creative prowess can do.”

That got a chuckle. “I’ll see what I can come up with. For now, are we mingling more...?”

“Maybe a bit,” she said with a sigh. “But I’d rather just take in the exhibit. I haven’t seen as much of it as you with all the bumping gums.”

Red smiled. “Need a break from people?”

“That’s about the size of it,” she nodded ruefully. “At least from making them my focus.”

“Say no more.” He winked and steered her toward a section of displays garnering far less attention than the ones at the front of the large room.

“Do you even know what’s over here?” Xaeryn asked with a laugh.

“No, but I know it’s old and likely from far away, so I’m pretty sure we’ll find it at least a little interesting.”

“Point,” she grinned. The first case proved to be of more interest to her; journals of the first High Augar appointed post-Castigation, as well as a few preserved vestments. Red didn’t wander off, however, his arm comfortably looped through hers until they moved on to the next case. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“For what?” Red shot her a curious look.

“You know...” Probably best not to mention his feelings toward the One-God’s church in the seat of that faith, surrounded by wealthy and powerful adherents. “Being available to help on such short notice. I know social events are something you enjoy, but I did ask very last minute.”

“And like I said, I always have time for you, Xaer,” he said with a boyish smile.  “Besides, the chance to see all these artefacts was too good to pass up.”

“Oh, of course,” Xaeryn laughed, warmth twisting in her chest at the sight of his dimple. “How silly of me to think Liefred Antiqua would ever skip the chance to be in a room full of historic relics.”

Red shrugged, smile turning wry. “Guilty as charged.” He cast an admiring look at the next case, slowing to take in the engraved script that decorated the warhammer it held. “Ryn, I wanted to ask-”

“Enjoying the gala, Miss Shrike?”

Xaeryn swiveled to face the interruption, forcing a polite smile. “Yes, but not enough to forget my snooping, Mr. Syndran, no worries.”

He glanced between her and Red and the corner of his mouth twitched. “I apologize for interrupting and do trust your methods, I merely wanted to check if your time has paid off this evening.”

“Very well,” she said, catching his almost vampiric grin at her glance toward King Kaza. “Definitely making progress. Didn’t Miss Aerin pass that along? I spoke to her earlier.”

“Aerin’s been... a bit distracted this evening. She handled most of the logistics to set this up and I think she keeps forgetting it’s out of her hands and into the museum’s.” He brushed something off the sleeve of his jacket. “As I’m sure your office would be a better place for a detailed discussion, shall I come by tomorrow morning? I’m very interested in a full accounting of what you learned tonight.”

“Nine o’clock should work for me,” Xaeryn said, making a rapid guesstimate how much sleep she’d need and when she’d get home tonight. 

“Excellent. I’ll see you then.” With a final sharp nod, Mr. Syndran took his leave.

“No introductions, Xaer?” Red whispered playfully.

She snorted a laugh. “A thousand pardons for trying to get the business conversation done as fast as I could. If you drop by my office while Mr. Syndran is there, I’m sure he’d love to meet my research assistant.” That earned her a laugh and she had to clear her throat to stave off the rising warmth in response.  “What... What were you about to ask?”

“Ah.” Something hesitant, almost bashful, crept across Red’s features before a warm smile returned. He gestured with his free hand toward the back end of the hall, and the glaringly open space she’d been trying to ignore all night because it made her pulse spike. “Do you... want to dance?”

Her better judgment, struggling to hold years of unspoken sentiment at bay, immediately insisted it was a bad idea. She would let slip something she shouldn’t, make things awkward, lose a friend. She’d been worried about the risk of this very scenario, remember?

She did remember. She’d also never managed to tell Red Antiqua no in her life and didn’t really want to start now. Not when he was looking at her like that; all boyish grin and twinkle in his eyes. She’d been right, she wasn’t strong enough. “Sure.”

The boyish grin widened, the twinkle looked almost like relief for a moment before returning to mischief. “Well, then...” he slipped his arm free of hers and offered his hand instead.

Sun above, she tried to keep her breathing steady as she slid hers into it, but the familiar, lightly callused warmth seemed to shoot straight up her arm to her chest, burning as it went.

Their timing was excellent; the musicians just transitioning between songs as they reached the edge of the dance floor, the singer humming along with the introductory notes before she reached the lyrics.  The new tune was something slower, just shy of mid-tempo, and Xaeryn was pleased at the prospect of of enjoying a more leisurely, platonic dance with her best friend.

“Has focusing on work helped make this more bearable?” Red asked as they joined the scattering of other couples for the new dance. “I know you’re usually not keen on this much socializing.”

She laughed, trying to ignore the strains of the lyrics starting, as they undermined attempts to think platonic thoughts.. ‘I must confess that I like you, but there is something amiss...’

 “It has, actually. All the fascinating artefacts and history, as well, though nothing so much as having a good friend along for emotional support.” She squeezed his hand. “It’s my good fortune I have one who could come, especially since he keeps turning heads and distracting people from what I’m up to.”

Red blushed at the teasing and shook his head. “You sure they aren’t looking at you, Ryn?” The dance brought them closer together and he smiled. “I know we made light of it earlier, but you do look lovely.” Nothing in the world existed outside the sincerity shining in his green eyes. “I’m sure some of the turning heads are for you.”

A small, breathless chuckle escaped her, face hot from more than the lights and dancing. “Thank you.  I likewise meant it when I said you look handsome.” She smiled.  “Much as the rumpled professor look suits you, I like this one, too.” Xaeryn toyed with the lapel of his jacket. “I haven’t seen you this dolled up since...”

“The graduation dance,” he finished when memory made the words trail off.

 ‘...I know some who are always on the go, but here’s what I like best...’ 

Before we left. After a few moments of following the steps without speaking, Xaeryn asked softly, “Why didn’t we keep in touch?”

Red sighed. “We meant to, didn’t we?” he said, just as softly. The music slowed, as did their movements to match. “I suppose it was a combination of neither having a travel itinerary beyond see the world, so we never knew where to send letters, and then everything with Tevanti...”

“Guess I was lost to the great wide somewhere by the time you got bolted to one place, wasn’t I?” she conceded wryly. A moment’s weighty hesitation and she confessed, more to his tie than him, “I almost stopped by Solhadur a few years ago.” Red’s hand twitched tighter around hers as she continued. “On my way to Haven, once I came to grips with needing to settle somewhere and earn a steady living.”

“Why.. Why didn’t you?” Red asked quietly.

Xaeryn lifted her gaze back to meet his. “Figured everyone was gone. I knew you wanted to travel, thought Pan and Neon and everyone would’ve found jobs and lives elsewhere. That’s how graduations go, isn’t it? Everyone splits to the four winds? In the end, wandering the ground and bumping gums with Tevanti wasn’t enough draw to pull me from my course.”

He chuckled. “Very you. Once you set your mind to something, there’s not much that can derail you.” 

She laughed, then tugged his arm to move them off the dance floor as they’d they’d slowed even beyond the tempo of the music and walking was probably better.   ‘...Fold me in your arms, it’s your affection I crave...’ 

 “It makes me a good detective,” she said lightly. “...If I’d known you were there, I would’ve come by.” No need to mention how much she’d missed him, but, “It would have been nice to reconnect earlier.”

“It would have,” Red agreed, then smiled warmly and squeezed her hand. “But we managed it anyway, and I’m happy with that.”

One-God, but it was warm in here. “Me, too,” Xaeryn smiled back. There was something in his smile that made her stomach do an extra flip, but even as she opened her mouth to say something undoubtedly foolish, a flash of pink and blue caught her eye and she was reminded--brutally--that she was here to work.

King Kaza’s bodyguard was heading for one of the side doors. Her stride and manner were casual enough, but there was a determination to her path obvious to a trained eye.

Xaeryn sighed. Two more minutes, couldn’t I have two more minutes?

“What?” Red frowned at her shift in demeanor.

“I see a lead I need to follow before I lose it.” She bit her lip in calculated thought, then tugged out her keys and shoved them into his hand. “Take my car back to the office.”

“What?! Wh-”

“If someone think my being here is hinky, me disappearing while you’re still around will confirm their suspicions, but if we’re both gone it just means we left. I’ve chatted up everyone I need to anyway, I shouldn’t be more than an hour behind you.”

“Xaer, I’m not leaving you a-”

“I can take care of myself, Liefred.” Stormbreaker was almost out of the room. Xaeryn curled Red’s fingers around the keys and caught his eye. “Trust me.”

He sighed but nodded and headed for the front door. Xaeryn waited long as she dared, then headed after Stormbreaker.

The museum was dark, of course, outside the area where the gala was being held, dimmed lights every half dozen feet the only illumination. Stormbreaker’s silhouette was easy to follow, the shadows deep enough to mask Xaeryn’s progress. The only potential difficulty was distance, some turns were close enough together she could lose the woman if she wasn’t careful. Xaeryn slipped off her necklace and headband as she went, tucking them in her handbag so the glint wouldn’t betray her. She was three or four turns into following with a long straight hallway ahead when voices to the side caught her attention.

She hesitated, torn between the risk of losing Stormbreaker and concern over a possible ambush. It only took half a second for the latter to win. She didn’t want to deal with an unknown element behind her; those rarely ended well.  The door concealing the muffled, sporadic chatter was slightly ahead to her left. With one last glance toward Stormbreaker’s progress, Xaeryn eased up to the door. It bore an employees only placard but the knob was unlocked when she tested. There was another beat of chatter, quiet but heated, that hinted whoever was in the room beyond was oblivious to her presence. She twisted the knob and pulled the door open in one smooth motion.

The two figures in the room--a lanky Norm and tiny Elf--jumped to their feet as if electrocuted by her entrance, then shuffled in a belated attempt to hide the playing cards splayed atop an upside down bucket.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” the Norm blurted, crossing his arms defensively. 

Xaeryn arched a brow, letting her gaze drifted deliberately over their uniforms and the keys hanging at his belt. “Nor are you, currently, I suspect,” she returned coolly. “Aren’t you meant to helping with the gala? This is awful far removed.”

“Yeah, but it’s boring, and there isn’t much needs doing anyway,” the Elf muttered, sweeping auburn hair out of her eyes.

“Curator Acquell would beg to differ,” Xaeryn said, letting her tone go downright frosty. “Get back to work or I will tell someone who will make you care to do so.”

She withdrew and returned to her pursuit without waiting to see if they listened, but smirked when she heard the scuffle of footsteps headed back toward the main hall behind her. 

Stormbreaker was, of course, gone from view even with her minimizing the delay. Xaeryn muttered a mild oath under her breath and headed in the direction she’d last seen the woman, but there was neither hide nor hair to be found. She still spent some time checking different halls and rooms in dwindling hope of finding some trace before giving up. Something to follow up on another day. Resigned she’d done everything she could, Xaeryn headed back to the main hall, planning to exit properly out the front door. She waved farewell to Shery from across the room, gratified to see her assistants were helping her now, and headed out of the museum. 

She’d barely made it past the pool of light that bathed the front entrance when a shadow to her right moved.

Fortunately, Xaeryn was on edge enough from the evening’s events to dodge and block the attacker, shifting back until she reached a nearby street light.

“Oh, good instincts on ya, then,” the bruno sneered, light glinting off metal in one hand. “If only they’d told ya to leave well enough alone.”

He lunged at her again and Xaeryn let her handbag drop to catch his wrist. She  twisted the knife away from her and followed up with a punch to the face. The knife clattered to the sidewalk and the man growled something uncomplimentary as he swung at her in turn. 

She dodged the full strength of the blow, but it still grazed her cheek with enough force to smart and make her stumble. So she punched him again. Then pivoted to drive her other elbow into his sternum hard enough she heard something crack. He dropped with a wheeze. Xaeryn barely paused long enough to collect her handbag and his knife before heading swiftly toward her office, face and hand pounding in time with her heart.

The hand was obvious; red oozing from her knuckles after landing two such hefty blows. She tugged out a handkerchief as she walked and wrapped her bleeding knuckles. She had a first aid kit, in her apartment, she could treat it properly there. This would do for now. 

---

Her door had never been so welcome a sight, and Xaeryn let out a sigh of relief as she opened it.

Red sat slouched in one of the extra chairs by her bookshelf, bowtie undone and jacket off. His head came up as the door opened and he almost dropped the book he was reading when the state she was in registered. For half a second, Xaeryn thought he was going to vault the desk instead of circling it to reach her.

“Gods, Ryn, are you alright?!” he demanded, skirting the desk and reaching her in just a few long strides. He caught himself just before his hand grazed the bruise decorating her left cheek, and rested it on her shoulder instead.

“I’m fine,” she said, at the same moment his gaze dropped to the handkerchief wrapped around her hand, the white fabric a sharp contrast to her dark skin. “Mostly,” she amended with a weak smile. She pushed the door closed and set her clutch and the knife on the corner of the desk.

Red gave her a skeptical look, his other hand curling loosely around her wrist.  “Do you have...?”

“In the kitchen,” she nodded toward the half-open door.

“Come on.” Red gently tugged her that direction, firmness in his voice that made her smile widen. He nudged one of the chairs out with his foot and let go of her arm only after he was sure she was settled, then dragged the other chair closer, dropping into it as he turned over her injured hand. “Let me see.”

“It’s not that bad,” Xaeryn mumbled, even as she winced at the cloth tugging against half-dried blood.

Red arched a brow at her, looked down significantly at her bloodied knuckles, and swallowed hard before he spoke. “What happened?”

“Oh, someone apparently doesn’t want me finding Solimer’s torch,” she said, trying for a light tone, but clearly falling short from his expression.

“Xaeryn,” he said softly.

Amazing how he could fit a whole lecture--no, that was uncharitable, a speech--into just her name. Red had always been a worrier. It shouldn’t surprise her. She supposed it didn’t, really. (Felt nice to be worried about, though.)

“I handled it,” Xaeryn promised, fingers curling as his thumb brushed the heel of her hand. She cleared her throat. “First aid supplies are top left cabinet. The green tin.”

He nodded, still staring at her hand, then tore his gaze away and stood to retrieve the supplies. “Right...”

“At least I don’t have to worry about you being able to reach them,” she teased as she watched him. It did make him smile, even if it didn’t reach his eyes.

Red set the tin on the table, shoved his sleeves up past his elbows and started pulling out what he needed to treat her hand. They sat in silence as he cleaned off half-dried blood, swabbed the skinned knuckles with antiseptic, bandaged it up. It wasn’t until he was smoothing the final layer of bandages and tucking in the end that he spoke. “So, planning to tell me what happened?”

Xaeryn shifted in the chair, kicking off her shoes, but made no move to pull her hand free. “There was a, ah, tough waiting for me outside the museum. He tried to stab me, so I did the only thing that made sense.”

“Called for help?” Red drawled, shooting her a fondly scolding look.

“Punched him in the face.” She coughed delicately. “Twice.”

“Xaeryn.”

She gave him a gentle smile as she reminded, “I can take care of myself, Liefred.”

He ran his thumb over her bandaged knuckles. “How many times will I have to remind you you can call me Red?” he asked softly, not letting go of her hand.

Xaeryn had to swallow hard before she could speak, staring at her hand cradled in his. “At least one more,” she said just as softly, then looked up, immediately caught in his deep green eyes. She hadn’t realized how close they were sitting until now, knees practically touching. “Or I might do something dreadfully improper.” That I won’t regret in the slightest.

Red bit his lip, hesitated as he leaned the barest fraction closer. His thumb brushed over the pulse point in her wrist as he murmured, “Like what?”

She flicked an inadvertent glance at his lips before dragging her gaze back up to meet his once more. “You’re a smart man. I think you can guess.”

“I-”

The heavy, carefree footsteps only gave them a half second’s warning before knuckles rapped wood and the office door creaked. “Red? Xaer? Hope you two are back with the door hanging open...”

Xaeryn flinched at the sound of Pan’s voice, wondered if she imagined the irritation-adjacent flicker in Red’s eyes, and cleared her throat. “In here, Pan.” She turned her hand to give Red’s a light squeeze before slipping free.

“Sorry I’m ahead of schedule, Neon has an early shift tomor-” Pan cut himself off when he reached the doorway and caught sight of them. “Gods’ blood, Ryn, what happened?!”

“Someone objects to my current investigation,” she said dryly. “There was a scuffle. But I’m fine, and you should see the other guy.”

Red shot her a suspicious look. “You just said you punched him in the face.”

“I also elbowed him in the chest hard enough I heard something break. On him, not me,” she clarified when he started to open his mouth.

Red dropped his head into his hands with a loud sigh, then raked his fingers through his hair.

Xaeryn and Pan shared a look that was just shy of a snicker.

“Least he won’t be following you any time soon,” Pan drawled, then smirked looking at how close the two of them were sitting. “And so fortuitous you had someone to help patch you up.”

Xaeryn bit her lip hard. “It would have been much trickier to do this one-handed, yes,” she said, flexing the fingers of her bandaged hand and hoping exhaustion overwhelmed any other emotion in her voice. “I’m lucky to have Liefred around.”

Red shrugged, the faintest hint of pink climbing his neck. “It wasn’t that hard, Ryn. I’m happy I could help.”

Pan’s smirk widened and he gestured back over his shoulder with one hand.  “That knife on your desk come from the loser of your scuffle?”

Xaeryn nodded as she pushed to her feet. “Didn’t seem wise to leave a weapon nearby, even if he was in no shape to use it.”

Pan scoffed and moved out of the doorway so she could step back into the office, Red close enough behind her some might call it hovering. It was a long shot there would be anything helpful or identifying about the knife, but it couldn’t hurt to look. She hadn’t taken time to examine it yet, with the scuffle and the Red-patching-her-up moment.

She picked it up to do so now, and almost dropped it immediately in surprise.

“What’s wrong?” Red and Pan asked in unison, Red reaching out in support.

“This... is mine,” Xaeryn said slowly, trying to believe her goosebumps were from the coincidence and not his fingers brushing her elbow as she ran a more critical look over the dagger to confirm.

“How the hael is that possible?” Pan demanded, brow furrowed.

She winced in anticipation of Red’s reaction to the words. “My handbag got nicked a couple days ago-”

“Xaer-!”

She held up a hand to curtail Red’s outburst. “-and this is the dagger I carried in there for protection. We’ve been having a bit more trouble with dips and such spreading from Ashtown; I didn’t figure it was anything more than that. But now...” She scowled at the blade.

It was possible--but unlikely--the pickpocket who took her bag had dumped everything but the money and this thug found the knife and kept it. That, however, strained credulity for her.

“What else did you lose?” Red asked, leaning against her desk. He was doing a good job not fussing, she could see the strain of worry in his eyes.

“Little money, maybe a few incidentals.” She flashed a wry smile. “My notepad.”

His brows jumped toward his tousled hair. “You lost all your notes?!”

Xaeryn nodded. “I bought a new one, rewrote what I remember, but I know it’s not everything.”

He bit his lip in thought. “When we get back I can collect what I found for you, pass it along again?”

“I can’t ask-”

“You’re not, Ryn, I’m offering,” Red said firmly. He smiled and gave her elbow a light squeeze. “I only have one class tomorrow afternoon, and most of the books should still be close together. It would hardly be any trouble.”

She gave him a searching look, knowing he’d offer even if it was a lot of trouble. He met her look and held it steadily and she caved. “Liefred, you’re a lifesaver.” Again. I’m going to owe you so big. (But she wouldn’t. And she she knew it.)

Pan cleared his throat and they both jumped a little at the reminder he was still there. “On that note, I should probably get Mr. Lifesaver back to our hotel so we can get a good night’s sleep before heading home tomorrow.”

“Oh. Yes.” Xaeryn rubbed the back of her neck. “Wouldn’t want you falling asleep at the wheel.” She hesitated a moment, then, “You are planning to swing by before you leave, right?”

“Of course,” Red spoke up before Pan could, “we have to say proper goodbyes.”

Not to mention they had something to discuss.

“Of course,” Pan echoed, with just a hint of shit-eating grin as he clapped a hand to Red’s shoulder and started steering him toward the door. “G’night, Ryn. Glad you’re alright.”

She chuckled. “Me, too. Good night, Pan, good night, Liefred.”

He gave her a soft smile. “Night, Xaer.”

And then they were gone, and the full exhaustion of adrenaline letdown hit her in a rush. Xaeryn slumped against her desk and ran one hand down her face.  “God, what a night,” she mumbled, then almost laughed when she noticed Red had forgotten his tuxedo jacket, still draped over a chair.

He can get it tomorrow, she rationalized, too tired to chase them down the stairs.

Tonight had been... eventful was underselling it, and she just wanted to sleep. She couldn’t stop a smile as she changed into her pajamas, despite lingering soreness. Xaeryn looked down at her bandaged hand, and a swirl of wall-cracking uncertainty cut through her high spirits.

I almost kissed my best friend, she thought as she tumbled into bed. She known tonight would be a test, but she thought she was stronger than that.

It only made things more confusing that he’d seemed ready to kiss her back.

But it was closing in on midnight, and she had a meeting tomorrow, so Xaeryn pushed those thoughts away so she could sleep.

Or tried to.

----

(TRUST ME, no one is more irritated about Pan interrupting them than Pan. xD He and Neon have been trying to very subtly play matchmakers for over a decade, he very much wants to smack himself right now xD but he’s also gonna tease Red like, a lot. bc what’re friends for?)

Lavinet’s companion is my Rhyler, who’s romancing her whenever I have time to pick him back up again rip

The song playing while they dance is Hold Me by Art Hickman & his orchestra, one of those “cribbed from the MFMM episode credits” songs I’ve been hanging onto xD

I’ve been sitting on that patching-up scene for so long oh my GOD I’m glad it’s out there now

[teeth-draws]

Some @shepherds-of-haven uniform designs for our gang of mages + two MCs * (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ✧

Since this was a conceptual clothing practice I used kibbitzer references directly. If you have some money to spare, kibbitzer’s Patreon provides amazing content to help artists develop their skills!

EDIT: added picture of everyone’s recruitable mage gang <3

[emeraldgreaves]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by @queen-scribbles! nano’s approaching slowly but surely and I need to get back in the habit of putting down prose, so to warm up i’m going back over some of my backlogged stuff. have a little bit of Bridgerton AU :)

no pressure, as always! tagging @bi-stander @jae-gerbomb @thenightdayblogger and open-tagging if you feel so inclined

Most years, he and Isodel pick a portrait and make up some kind of life story for its subject. But tonight Red’s alone, and he’s too restless to study a dozen white-wigged monarchs from across a crowded hall. Instead, he recites the introduction in his head, turning over conjugations and honorifics until they stop feeling like words. Briefly he considers asking the ambassador for advice, but the man flicks his pocketwatch open and shut in an impatient enough fashion that he decides against it.

For all that he’s considered carefree, Red isn’t completely oblivious—to be asked a favor on such short notice is an enormous opportunity, one that could mean a significant amount of favor for his family if he does well. Viscount is a perfectly respectable title, and he somewhat prides himself on the fact that his distant ancestor was elevated on merit rather than birth, but they lack the vast reserves of inherited wealth that flow into the pockets of dukes and earls. Four daughters means that one of his sisters may have to marry well in order to keep the family afloat, loath as they are to force any of them towards it.