#Hhhhhey hope this works!

[strigistricken]

@lalaluuz​​

Any true fan of the Good Witch Azura series would know the location- nestled within the scorching peaks of Lizardback Ridge, lower than even the land surrounding the mountains, one would find Deepest Depth Valley.  An unusual sight in the arid wasteland the Ridge was located within, the Valley possessed a swamp-like ecosystem as a result of the now-dried Roving Rivers pooling into the location.  Of course, coupled with the unforgiving desert heat, it made for a thoroughly unpleasant environment...and yet it proved to be of vital importance.  For it was within this swampy valley, when her magic powers were somehow dwindling and she was losing all faith in herself, that Azura found a run-down wooden shack and met just the person who would help her.

Elbarella, the woman who had once been known as the most powerful sorceress in the land.  

Her exploits were legendary, her powers unfathomable, it seemed as if the world would always be able to depend on her...until one day she just vanished, having gone to live in hiding.  She knew she could not be depended on to be the world’s savior- she had been far too worn down by life and the tolls it had taken on her.  The world needed somebody new- someone whose spirit would not be so easily broken, who could forgive and help those who had fallen to evil mend their ways.  In time she of course found this in Azura, who took Elbarella’s tough love and arcane prowess to heart, regained her confidence, and saved the day.  Though she would not always return to her teacher on her various adventures, Azura still held her in high regard as a wise spellcaster of incredible magical ability and unfettered grace and dignity.

And it was outside this sorceress’s cabin that Eda the Owl Lady was swinging an old broom she found, attempting to swat a dragonfly that was probably around the size of an actual dragon- a baby one, at least.

“Come...ON, you stupid...buzzing butthead; BUZZ OFF!”  A particularly wild spin led her into a stumble, invariably making her fall back onto her butt with a groan.  She just sighed and laid back.  Not a good day- first she was separated from her apprentice, and now she’s being mocked by an insect.  It didn’t help that this whole place seemed a lot brighter than what she was used to, almost as if everything around them was of a more colorful, animated style...

[riveires]

the pros and cons of breathing

@twentysixdegrees

JOOHYUK

the sheets are too scratchy, his pillow is too hard. maybe he should have heeded his older sister’s advice about investing in high quality sleep materials. or, maybe it’s because joonho’s desk light had still been on until about thirty minutes ago? but that’d never really been a problem before. joohyuk could really sleep anywhere if he was tired enough–so maybe he simply wasn’t tired enough. if that’s the case, then he finds himself going stir crazy in his bed and he turns on his side towards joonho.

“hhhhhey. joooooonho.” blinking a few times, he frowns when his roommate doesn’t respond right away. “i know you’re not asleep yet–no way you’re asleep yet–” and he’s soon rewarded with a small, acknowledging, sound.

with that in mind, joohyuk flings his covers off of his body, tugging one of the sheet corners out of his basketball shorts (how’d that even happen?). joohyuk pads over to joonho quietly, the gap between their beds easily covered in about 4 steps.

“my mattress is slumpy.” sitting down on the very edge of joonho’s bed, joohyuk finds himself quickly losing his courage. “i’ll put in a maintenance request tomorrow but can i just…?”

my bed isn’t comfortable without you.

JOONHO

Statistically speaking, how the next morning will go splits down 50-50 by the outcomes: will or won’tㅡpassing this goddamn test that is. On one hand, the painfully borderline B- should provide enough willpower to push for the odds to turn in his favor. But an hour in, the digits flipping to a late 11:30 see to eyes glazed over and a head bobbing barely inches above high water, swamped by formulas Joonho’s long given up on. The switch clicks off. Here’s to another day done, at lastㅡ

Until it isn’t

He thinks Joohyuk would beg to differㅡthat technically, it’s never really over until it has to be, like it’s some intangible notion out of human reach, and day isn’t quite day when the sun’s long sunk below the waves for full moon glory. That the night is still young. And yet it’s just thatㅡan assumption. There’s no telling what goes on in his head for sure.

But what he does know is this: the thoughts that bloom bright in the back of his own mind all hummingbird-frenzy, the palpable nearness of Joohyuk even when he’s not there, and the faint thud deep in the swell of his chest when he is. With his heart in his throat, he’s careful to not make a sound. Not right now, anyway. And thenㅡ

“What…?” Joonho shifts to glance at him over his shoulder, a slow show of “act natural.” Thud. Thud. He’s suddenly thankful for the dark, where the other boy can’t see him considering two sides of the coin.

50-50. Will, or won’t.

A sigh. Quiet surrender. “Fine.” Reluctance is a hesitant motion, where he gives just the tiniest bit of space, a third of the second pillow,  and then finally half of the whole bed. He lifts up the blanket. Thud, thud, thud.

“Get in here.” 

JOOHYUK

people measure their time in minutes or seconds, or even in heartbeats if you’re feeling romantic, but right now the only way he manages to measure is by the slow rise of blood to his face. it flushed around his collarbones when he made the decision to get out of bed. it rose up to his neck when he asked, and in that almost immeasurable time between his last syllable and joonho’s answer, the blush has risen almost to his ears. next time don’t even take the chance, he scolds inside his head before the “fine” reaches him properly. he’s almost ready to flee the scene, to jokingly complain about joonho’s own mattress (’maybe we both should file for new ones–’) until the weight of his answer fully settles.

he feels joonho shifting before he turns around to see. and then he’s relaxing his muscles–the ones that freeze up when you’re in situation as close to fight or flight as you can get in in a shared dorm room with one of your oldest friends.

yeah, it sounds just as ridiculous to him, too.

but it’s what he’s working with, and joohyuk is incredibly conscious of this when he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and starts to shuffle his way into the already warm covers, facing joonho (because he’s feeling ballsy). joohyuk pulls the covers up above his shoulders, shifting closer to joonho in the process. he’s incredibly aware of the fact that they’re two fully-sized college students shoved into a bed meant for one.

“can’t believe you almost left me in the cold.” he injects a tinge of drama into his voice. he wears the shield well, and it’s never failed him before. “in the cold with a lumpy mattress.” but he’s not a heathen–joohyuk keeps his voice low so as to not offend the tranquility of the night. “thanks though. i hope i wasn’t too distracting while you were studying i…just couldn’t seem to fall asleep.”

he continues to work the angle of the malformed mattress because the tossing and turning was definitely due to those reasons. they certainly didn’t have anything to do with the missing equation of a familiar body, or the slow crescendo of longing that starts somewhere close to his head and ends in his head. “is tonight a sleep immediately night or a talk then drift night?” apparently, those factors were strong enough to prompt a rebellion; logic against some sappy, whiny, need. and joohyuk was always shit with his impulse control. “cause if it’s a talk and drift, why didn’t you go out on that second date with…what’s her face?”

case and point.

JOONHO

“I know."

It’s an answer meant to match him, exasperated and droll to Joohyuk’s overdone means to appear moving. Double entendre for: can’t believe I hadn’t, sitting at the tip of his tongue, as he lays still, arms crossed. Minutes to midnight with the lights off, and no easing into the swell of slumber. Instead, this feels more like he’s dreaming with his eyes wide open. Low brows, the high slope of his nose, mouth softenedㅡall the makings of a boy that he’s known for more than half his life.

One that doesn’t seem ready to fall asleep either.

"Well,” begins with a huff, and it’s probably the most amused he’s sounded all evening, but stops short. It’s a turn he hadn’t seen coming.

“You mean Shirin?”

Canton born and raised, Yale-bound for a future Ph.D in economics. Or something. Something like that. Shirin. He fills the blanks in memory with details that had made for a better impression. In the span of a 90 minutes, she’d revealed a knack for storytellingㅡthe backwoods of some  obscure Midwest suburb to downtown London in a span of breaths, to the garlic-and-lemon-splashed sauté on their plates, to all the lessons to be learned from everything and nothing. At one point, he’d even glanced at her hands, then folding the napkin into a triangle, had become fully convinced right there she could make entire mountains out of the damn thing if she wanted to.

But more than that,  Joonho had been compelled to envy. Envious of how she takes to language so effortlessly, lets it tail her rather than the other way around. For the longest time, he thought he could do without—until then. When every tangent over lunch sent him back to the receding form of another through the doorway earlier that morning. Until now, on his side, close but not close enough to break the even distance. A dip in the bed makes for a small valley. Words fail to float, follow free. Little rivers to nowhere.

“I…got busy, I guess. Dunno.” A shrug, as if he’s finally come around to the admission. (But to what?) His cheek lifts to rest against the bend of his own elbow. There’s something different about the way he speaks now, tinged careful. “What about you and that other girl?”

JOOHYUK

Joohyuk’s always been a needy sort of person, ever since they were young. It was cute as a little kid, over-excited and bad at keeping his mouth shut. Looking back on it, he doesn’t understand how Joonho stuck it out with him, all the way up until he’d moved. He’s leveled out considerably, but he knows some people s still find him to be a little much.

Sometimes he feels a little bad, even now. It feels like Joohyuk’s always asking favors from Joonho. He’s been comforting since they were young, and Joohyuk’s always found him almost magnetic.

Comforting, magnetic. They’re some of the reasons why he always ends up so close.

It takes him a second. “Huh?” His first reaction is confusion, until he thinks back on his most recent date. His face morphs, mouth forming a small ‘o’ shape as he realizes. “Ángel.”

The former roommate of his current teammate, and unfortunately it was one of those instances of ‘Oh I have a friend who’s gay. I can set you up with him?’ By now Joohyuk is used to these sort of things. They’re well-meaning, and they really do come from a good place, but it’s still rooted in stereotypes. He’s not attracted to anyone and everyone, but something had compelled him to say ‘sure.’

Ángel was that old money sort of rich. They had more similarities than Joohyuk thought originally possible, given how different their backgrounds were, but not enough to inspire any real connection. He’d been a good listener, but was the type that only listened so he could one-up you with his next sentence. The worst part was that he probably didn’t mean to do it; he was probably trying to just seem impressive, but Joohyuk wasn’t interested in any of that by the third date. That’s some first date bull. And don’t even get him started on how picturesque his life seemed. Big house, lots of land, his was a family that had a professional photographer come to their home to take posed family pictures. Can’t relate.

Joohyuk can feel the covers shift the slightest, each breath moving Joonho’s shoulders and by extension, the blankets. “He wanted someone who was…like, gonna look at him with stars in their eyes. Constantly. It was exhausting to smile and nod at him so often. He was draining.”

And then, “I’m cold.”

Something compels him to keep talking, even though he knows he should probably quit it now before his mouth got him in trouble. “Unlike you.”

JOONHO

“Oh.” Only the smallest sound of surprise. "That Ángel. I’m sorry, man.“ Disappointment by now has dulled into something ritualistic, having and not wanted, wanting and not had. How many more names until they’d land upon the right one?

Joohyuk. Joohyuk. It’s not just a name anymore. It’s something bigger, brighter. In each other’s rooms, July moon glow, curtains dancing slow-motion under the quiet whirring of the fan. Promises between peals of laughter: swear on it, okay, we’re gonna do it, okay dude, okay, we will. Somehow all that summer heat managed to follow them from then to here. Or maybe it’s just him, under the spell of nostalgia and nostalgia alone. Nothing in the vein of the abstract he knows—formulas, unit-bound constants, theories of matter, a total wash. So what now.

“This sucks.” He’s on his back now, eyes to the ceiling, no fan in sight. Then a breathless laugh: “Maybe we’re not cut out for the people here. They’re too…” What’s the word? He has it, then doesn’t. Going, going, gone. Don’t chase what you can’t get back. “I don’t think it’s good to be with them for anything more.”

Homesick? Joonho’s hardly the type to catch something like that, but one look at him has him thinkingㅡfeelingㅡnonetheless. All those years until it hadn’t been.

But he should know better than anyone: thinking doesn’t get anyone anywhere. Not when there’s your hands, your anticipation, the pause before your first move.

Hovering, his head and shoulders cast a shadow over the other as he changes position. His expression is along the lines of disbelief, brows furrowing deep. “You have more than half the bed, Joohyuk.” But even then, despite then, he pulls the blanket close, his own body closer. His heart skips a beat and he has to fight the impulse to bury his face under the covers goddamnit, goddamnit.

“Christ.“  

JOOHYUK 

“It’s fine.” His eyes open, staring at the hand that’s settled near his face on the pillow. He pointedly avoids looking at Joonho. “He’s just another one, right? Another fling in the string of them.” And why is it that neither of them have found anyone even remotely close to being compatible enough? Joohyuk knows his faults, he’s tried dating based on opposite, based on similarities, based off of something as silly as zodiac signs, even. Nothing’s worked.

The girl before Ángel had broken up with him because she’d accused him of choosing Joonho over her. But that’s unfair, right? Joonho’s been there since day one. He shouldn’t need to choose, but if had to, it’d be Joonho without fail, every time.

Always.

“Sometimes, being here makes me homesick.” The admission comes as a surprise to even himself. He can’t properly decipher his feelings, right now isn’t a good time for trying to do so. He’s too vulnerable, Joonho is too close, and the night is too comforting. Joohyuk can feel himself slipping, sliding, and he should be worried about falling too far down but he can’t seem to muster up the care. It’s easier to swim deeper; sometimes it’s easier to just give in. “But that’s stupid, right? Cause you’re here. And you’re home.”

Nestling into the covers, he sighs, eyes closing to give himself a little extra push of courage. His hand snakes over Joonho’s waist, and they’re facing each other but he’s got his eyes closed. So this isn’t anything more than just mutual comfort. “Just because I have half the bed doesn’t mean I’m any warmer.” But he is. Where his arm touches the fabric of Joonho’s waist, it scorches. Where his hand curls, fingertips gently brushing against the small of Joonho’s back, he burns.

“But it’s okay, you’re warm. Why’re you so far away anyways? Quit acting like a stranger.”

Joohyuk makes the mistake of opening his eyes. His words are a lie. They’re entirely too close, nose almost brushing against Joonho’s. “We should date. You’re the only one that can handle my shit.” And I know how to make you happy.

He laughs quietly, nervously. Joonho looks so handsome under the filtered moonlight. “Kidding.”

JOONHO

Try, try again. If that isn’t the most common case of “been there, done that,” he can’t imagine what else could possibly compare.

But it doesn’t matter.

Where the other’s eyes open, his own close. Breathing in, counting out the pace of each exhale. The effect is calming, makes the fluttering in his stomach slow a little if not completely. Seoul is more vivid like this, painted with obvious care and affection. Childhood through the maze of alleyways. Memories of days longer than they are now. Or at least, they feel like that. Pure, unapologetic emotion, no matter which way he spins itㅡthe sprawl of the Atlantic on one side, the way Joohyuk reaches over to hold him on the other.

Shying away would’veㅡshould’veㅡbeen the first impulse. The instinctual panic. The racing of pulses. It had been like that, once. Now no longer. He moves to his touch, instead, the pull stemming not from the throws of gravity but from the center of his chest.

Proximity makes a good excuse for a change: that there’s nowhere else for his gaze to trail off to, but he keeps his constraint. Baby steps. Untilㅡ

“That’sㅡ” The first time anyone’s said that.

“The stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

What had he been undone with? A single syllable, or a single possibility?

“Whatever.” Unfolding his arms, he draws the covers up to his nose. “I’m going to sleep.”

Turns out it’s neither. Behind it all is just a single boy. From the butterflies that stir in his wake to the careful hands that hold both halves of his heart. And he doesn’t know even know it.

But Joonho’s smiling anyway, ear to ear. Hope is funny like that, funnier in the kind that comes with floating on cloud nine. Kidding, he’d said. I know, he’d thought after. Everything else in the state of the unspoken, set adrift, waiting. Still waiting.

For another day, then.

“You should too.”

JOOHYUK

The pull of sleep is tempting his eyes closed, coaxing his breathing into deeper pulls, slower exhales. It’s that floaty, weightless, state in between awake and asleep, where you can feel everything around you but it seems like you’re watching from afar. Funny how he’d been absolutely unable to fall asleep before, but now all it takes is a few minutes of teasing fondness, sappy confessions, and meanings between words. Joohyuk doesn’t so much reply to Joonho’s accusations of limited intelligence, as he rumbles out an acknowledging sound. Sticks and stones, and whatchamacallits. Too many words to get out properly.

Still, he feebly fights against the sleep that bleeds closer to his core, trying to fall asleep after Joonho does. It’s not so much a dominance thing rather than a nervousness that he’s going to say something silly, take a thought too far, or perhaps be too honest out loud. “Whatever,” he barely manages to echo out, the word low and drawling, as if his brain is winding down before it shuts off completely. “I’ll sleep, I’ll sleep.” His voice shifts closer to a whine, tired of trying to stay awake, tired of holding back, and most of all, tired of being this close but being unable to do anything more than this.

Seven billion people in the world and he knows that soulmates don’t necessarily have to be lovers. They can be best friends too. But with Joonho this close, Joohyuk doesn’t know where best friend ends and lover begins.

He voices his drifting train of thought in the vaguest way possible.

“You still love me though.”

And that will just have to do, for now.

[FIN] 

[speakersdisaster]

Abriel hates everything also this story is too long bye

Fingers drummed against the wooden table that she stood next to. For about the fifteenth time during her two days with the guild, she didn't feel comfortable or safe. Ellie could see people watching her and whispering. After all, she was the girl that tried to steal from their leader, and now she was with them?

The harshest stares were from those who knew Yondra the best. Her inner circle, those who knew everything that occurred within the guild. Word had spread like wildfire about how Ellie and Roran had joined, and many people thought it was a terrible idea on Yondra’s part. It didn't matter to her, though. As long as she'd be getting a place to sleep and food in her stomach, Ellie would find a way to deal with it, as she always had.

Eventually, she decided to hoist herself up onto the chair and order some food. While she waited, her eyes moved to the window, and she admired how nice the weather seemed to be. Her thoughts carried her elsewhere, and she eventually wondered where Roran had run off too. Maybe he'd already gotten himself a job for the guild? It would make sense. Ellie knew they'd trust him before they'd trust her, simply because of how personable he was. That was something that came so easily and naturally to him, but she'd somehow never picked up on.

Her contemplation was rudely interrupted by just that person. He plopped down in the seat across from her, leaning his elbows on the table and grinning. “Oi, you look like you're thinking.” Roran observed, tilting his head. “Don't do that, it's not good your your health.”

“Yeah?” A smile came to her face. “And you look like you just got out of a pig sty, but do I comment?” Ellie chuckled as Roran feigned offense. “Anyways.” Her tone grew a bit quieter. “Have you met anyone that hasn't given you the death stare yet?” She asked. Her food arrived, and she thanked the barkeeper.

Without asking, Roran reached forward and snatched a piece of toast from her plate. “Yeah, actually!” He spoke with a full mouth. “A dwarf named Mersa. She gave me a job this morning, and I finished it about ten minutes ago. She's a real sweet lady. I think you two would get along fine.” He finished the piece of toast and stretched his arms.

“Oh, that's good to hear!” Ellie exclaimed, toying with her braid in her hands. “I just hope I can make Yondra not hate me? I don't really know what she thinks of me,” she began. “Because it's weird to take people in that have just stolen from you. And, uh, then to mentor one of them directly?” She shrugged, frowning deeply. “It's just a little odd.”

   When she looked up, Roran was staring to the left at another person who had walked up to the table. Ellie hadn't even seen them approach, much less set some papers down in front of her.

“Um. . . Hello.” She brought up a hand and offered a small wave and a smile. The gestures weren't returned.

She was an elf, Ellie observed. And the way she looked down her nose at the two of them made Ellie feel uneasy. The silence was finally broken when she spoke in a slightly raspy tone.

“Yondra has a job for you,” was all she said at first.

“Yeah? Some details might make it a little bit, um. Easier?” Ellie glanced to Roran, who just shrugged and grabbed her second piece of toast, stuffing it into his mouth so he didn't have to say anything.

The elf rolled her eyes and sat down silently. “There's been rumors of wagons coming through Eversummer with precious gems. Gems that they aren't supposed to have. Not just a couple in a wagon. Boxes and crates full of them. Yondra wants you to find out if this is true, and if so, which wagons that are currently in Eversummer.” Her monotone voice grated at Ellie’s nerves, but she managed to keep a pleasant expression.

“Mmhm. Okay. Which gate were they supposedly traveling through?”

“North.” One word answers. Great. That was just what Ellie needed.

“What's your name, by the way?” She asked, forcing herself to smile. God, it hurt to be so pleasant.

“Delliarla. Not that it matters, I don't expect to see you around often.” She shrugged. “I really  don't expect Yondra to stay impressed with whatever the two of you have to offer.”

A few crumbs fell out of Roran’s mouth as his jaw fell open. “Hey now. That's a little harsh, don't you think?”

“I'm not going to make you think you're better than you are. Not going to feed your ego. Both of your heads are already too big for your shoulders.  The rest of us had to work to get our status. Don't think you two can waltz in here and be all high and mighty.” Her narrow eyes fell to Ellie, and it was clear that her words were aimed primarily at her, as well.

Taken aback, Ellie leaned forward and took a small sip from her cup of water, not responding for quite a bit. This woman was certainly trying to test Ellie, to see if she'd get mad and make herself look even worse than she already did. Instead, she turned back to Delliarla and smiled.

“I'm terribly sorry that not everyone in the guild can be as perfect and talented as Roran and me. We just can't help it. It's a blessing and a curse. A curse because those of you without the talent just want to be like us, and will do anything to achieve that goal.” She brought a hand to her chest, mocking someone that would be giving a great speech. Anybody that knew Ellie could tell that she was bullshitting. “Ahem. Don't even worry about me. I'll do this job and it will be perfect.” Ellie waved a dismissive hand. Delliarla stared at her for a moment, working her jaw. Her eyebrows twitches, and the annoyance was visible on her face before she stood up, eyeing both of them. Without another word, she turned and walked off.

Roran was choking on his bread at that point. Between trying not to laugh and talk at the same time. Once he had finished dying, he spoke. “Holy fuck, Ellie. What was that?” He asked, gesturing at her.

Ellie made that universal ‘I don't know’ sound and shrugged once again.  “She was being rude. So I just. Kinda. Did that.” Another sip of water. “I'm going to prove her wrong. I'm going to impress Yondra, and we are going to stay with the guild.” A newly confident aura surrounded the halfling.

“Seems like a pretty important job, Ells. How're you gonna go about it?” Roran asked, raising an eyebrow and leaning back in his chair.

She scratched at the back of her head, trying to think. “Wagons don't usually move in and out during the night. People stop to rest.” She thought out loud. “I'll wait until then, and when it's late enough, I'll just go for it.” Nodding, she felt satisfied with her plan. Considering she didn't actually have much more than that, she figured it would be improv once she actually got there.

“Hhhhhey Ellie. Are you gonna finish your food?” Roran whispered loudly, pointing to her bowl of soup.

“You steal both of my pieces of toast and now you want to steal the rest of my meal? Preposterous! Unbelievable! Terrible!” She exclaimed, holding back a fit of giggles. A few pairs of unwanted eyes were drawn to them, and she slowly ducked her head back down. Calming herself quickly, Ellie pushed the bowl towards him.  “Sure, sure. Go ahead. After that conversation I'm not very hungry anymore.”

To Ellie's horror, rather than using the spoon like a normal person, Roran lifted the bowl to his lips and simply downed most of the soup. Once he was finished, he dragged a sleeve across his mouth and started. “Well, I'm sure you'll do great. You always do.”

The rest of the afternoon was relatively quiet for the two. They didn't see Delliarla again, which Ellie was relieved about. They spent most of the time talking and munching on food, but Ellie became antsy as the sun began to set.

Roran, having eaten nearly four times as much as Ellie, was complaining quietly about his stomach ache. She rolled her eyes and smiled. “If you eat any more, you may explode.” She shifted her weight where she sat, picking at the wood of the table with an absent mind.

“Yeah, I may just go to sleep. It's early but. . . Bluh.” He groaned, a small wheeze escaping his lungs.

“Okay. Sleep well, and don't puke. I don't wanna be cleaning up after your stupid decisions.” Ellie joked, glancing out the window. “I should probably head out pretty soon here, anyways.” A warm feeling of anxiety bubbled in the pit of her stomach. As Roran left for his room, Ellie hopped down from her seat and stretched her arms upwards. She was aware that she was stalling, and that she'd have to get on the job very soon.

Ellie turned and silently left the tavern. Even without the sun in the sky, the air was still warm, and the stars in the sky were watching her. Tiny hands tugged at the hem of her shirt as she began moving along the side of the road. As she passed the Misty Gardens, she glanced inside and saw it was empty for the most part. Paying no mind to it, she kept going until she arrived near the North gate.

Eversummer was nice at night. There was the occasional person passing by, coming home from a late job or closing up shop. The gentle twinkling of lanterns lit the streets, giving them a certain warmth. It was a pleasant place. . . Until you got something stolen from you by the young street urchins that always wandered about.

Ellie came to a stop and glanced around. She didn't tend to come up to this gate often when she was younger. Roran and her liked to keep to the South for the most part.

She stood there for what felt like an hour before she remembered that there was a rest stop for traveling caravans and merchants to park their wagons. It was a covered area, cared for and kept by the tabaxi named Finch That Flies. As Ellie remembered the tabaxi, she also remembered that he didn't like her very much. In the few times that the halfling had been up here, she'd been known to steal from parked wagons and make off with whatever she could carry. She grumbled at the thought of running into him.

It wasn't far away from the main road. If it was, wagons wouldn't be able to fit through the narrow streets and alleyways to get there. Ellie was able to remember where it was relatively quickly, as well.

As soon as she approached, she spotted Finch. He was sitting in a weathered wooden chair and was leaning against one of the posts. He looked like he was asleep, or at least pretending to be. While she hoped it was the first, she had a feeling it was the latter, based on the fact that he was literally being paid to watch these peoples’ goods and belongings while they slept.

How do I want to go about this? Ellie slunk in the shadows, away from any lanterns and leaned against the nearest building as she thought. I probably should have thought this through a bit more. She tugged at her braid while she stared at the dimly lit area.

Finch twitched ever so slightly, and his hat fell off of his head, landing in his lap. It caused him to jolt awake, ears perked. He glanced around before yawning again and picking his hat back up, placing it on his head. Grunting, he stood up and arched his back to stretch, walking into the covered area to make sure everything looked right with the wagons.

So he was asleep. Great work etiquette. Ellie threw her braid over her shoulder and moved quickly towards the rest stop, freezing every time she heard Finch grumble or cough. If only he would fuck off, this job would be made so much easier.

After making doubly-sure that she had nothing on her that would make a lot of noise, she ducked down beside one of the wagons and waited for Finch to walk past. Once it was clear, she stood up and crawled into the wagon, wincing as it jostled and made a quiet creaking noise under her weight.

There were crates. A lot of them. Crates stacked on crates stacked on crates. Ellie gave a small sigh and pushed a few blankets and clothing pieces out of the way, creeping over. As she opened the first crate, which was just about as tall as she was, she found that there was nothing more than knitted goods. Deflating at the sight, she put the lid back on and continued on. For the most part, hand-crafted goods were all that were inside of that wagon. Otherwise, there was the occasional trinket, but no gems that she could find.

She gave an indignant ‘humph’ as she hopped out of the wagon. Luckily for her, Finch was back at the front of the overhang, back in his shitty chair and minding his own business.

As time passed, Ellie wasn't able to find gems in the wagons. Or at least none that seemed out of the ordinary. A simple emerald or ruby here or there, but they never came in huge abundances like she was expecting to find.

She crept towards one of the wagons at the end of the bunch, glancing over her shoulder to where Finch was slumped before she lifted herself up and inside. These wagons were definitely not made for halflings, which just made the job that much more difficult.

Immediately, she knew something was off. From one of the crates in the corner, she could see small items that would normally be glittering under a lantern’s light, but were dulled by the darkness that shrouded the wagon. Her first observation was that the items in the crate were stacked too high for a lid, and she could imagine them falling off of the mound and getting lost.

Before she could move forward, Ellie stopped mid-step as she heard someone walking by again. Figuring it was Finch, she quietly sat down and ducked her head, watching the light of his lamp as he walked. Her hands scratched at her knees, which her pulled up towards her chest. Ellie felt her heart jump to her throat as she realized that Finch was glancing inside some of the wagons. She peered outside one of the flaps and caught a view of the back of his head just as he passed by. Her stomach lurched as soon as she saw him pause and back up towards the wagon that she sat in. Scrambling for a hiding place, Ellie managed to wedge herself between the side of the wagon and a large crate, eyes locked onto the opening of the flaps.

A pair of claws peeled the fabric back, and he held forward his lantern, making a quick scan. Ellie ducked her head between her knees, praying silently that she wouldn't be spotted. She could hear Finch say a few things about useless items before turning and walking away. She lifted her head and let out a breath that she'd been holding or what felt like ten minutes.

Not wanting to spend any more time than she needed to, Ellie squeezed herself out of her little nook and moved toward the overflowed crate. As soon as she could see inside well enough, it was clear that there was a large abundance of gems. She couldn't tell what kind they were in the dark, but she had a feeling that this was what the guild was looking for.

I wasn't told to remove the gems. Just to tell the guild about the wagon. They'll take care of it, I'm just gathering information. Ellie stared at the contents of the box for a few more moments before standing and hopping out the back of the wagon.

She finally turned and got one last good look at the wagon; it had dark wood as the base, and the cover over the top was a dark red. Based on what she could make out in the relative darkness, the back had yellow and gold accents sewn into the fabric.

Ellie turned and slunk out from the covered area and back into the street. She was more than surprised that Finch hadn't spotted her and nabbed her from where she stood. She shuddered at the thought of the gray cat lifting her off the ground by the collar of her shirt like he'd done in the past when he'd caught her. The halfling shoved her hands into her pockets, trying to look as nonchalant as she could. Her head was lowered slightly, and she had found a nice pebble to kick along the street.

Once she made it back to the Fizzling Fireball, she realized that it was the middle of the night, and that she would have to wait to tell anyone that her job had been a success. Roran didn't count as “anyone” to her, though. She walked up the stairs and down the hall until she came to their shared room, using the single key in her pocket to unlock and open the door.

Roran was asleep. He was turned on his side and faced away from the door, snoring.  Ellie snuck up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. At first, he simply brought a hand up and scratched where she'd poked. When she tried again, he swatted at her hand. Third time, being the charm, she earned a groan from her friend as he turned over and faced her.

“Whaaaaat?” He asked, opening his eyes slightly. “Oh. It's you. How goes it, Ells?”

   Before beginning, she threw off her boots and hoisted herself up so she sat on his stomach, earning a weak grunt of protest from him. “I'm pretty sure I found exactly what the guild was looking for!”

He reached up and lifted Ellie so that he could sit up himself before setting her down on the edge of the bed. “Yeah? You gonna report that to Delliarla, since she was the one to give you the job in the first place?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, heart sinking at the idea of having to talk to that elf again. “Mmhm. I'll find her tomorrow so that she can let Yondra know.” Ellie brushed her bangs out of her face and sighed, slouching slightly.

“I'm proud, Ells! I'm sure Yondra will be impressed, too. Already doing jobs successfully on your own at sixteen. Yeesh.” Roran rubbed his forehead before continuing. “It's like one in the morning. You should probably get some sleep, otherwise you'll be too tired to do anything tomorrow.” He reached over and nudged her arm, earning a quiet squeak from her in response.

“I'll do that. Thanks, Roran. Goodnight.” She jumped down from the bed and walked over to her own, lifting up the covers and finding a happy mouse that squeaked when it saw her. “Hiya, Gidget. How've you been?” Ellie sat down, picking the mouse up.

Once she was settled into bed, she reached over and turned off the lantern, yawning quietly. Ellie set Gidget on her chest and funky closed her eyes, feeling satisfied with her work, and proud of herself.