#I mean okay I could understand if Clemente literally didn’t walk in with them

[rathenrys]

am I going crazy or should they be switched cause this literally doesn’t make sense

why would they even, what

[bittykimmy13]

Miss Clara’s Charmed Jewelry and Pets ~ 5 (GT)

(( Read from the beginning ))

Synopsis: While looking for a place to rest on her aimless journey, Valentina comes across the cottage of Miss Clara, who welcomes fairy guests with open arms.

Characters belong to @pr-fae <3</p>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5 ~ The Aristocrat Hours passed, but Valentina barely noticed. She was too occupied with the bliss, the absolute exhilaration of having magic back at her fingertips. She had waited until Jaune and Silky were gone to try it. They had left her on the table, food and water within reach, after asking several times if she was comfortable there. She all but ignored the provisions now. Tears had sprung forth along with the magic, and for the first time in so long, she was not crying from fear or misery. Tiny little flowers of every color bloomed on the wooden tabletop in patches. She knew she could do so much more, but she feared pushing herself too far after her month of iron proximity. For now, she was content to miraculously grow flowers for the dead wood and contemplate how she might use her magic to escape if needed. All peace in the room shattered when the door flew open.

Valentina screamed and sprang up, shuffling to the furthest corner of the table. She eased up only slightly when she saw it was Jaune. She fought the urge to hide—there was nowhere to go within reach, anyway. The door slammed shut and made her flinch, and she forced herself to hold her ground. But Jaune’s harried state was frightening. That was nothing compared to her realization that Silky was nowhere to be seen on his person as he approached with rattling, too-fast steps. Her forced bravery crumbled immediately. She was all alone with a towering human who came from a Fae-hating family. “She took Silky,” Jaune uttered in a broken voice, his eyes red. Valentina felt sick to her stomach. “No…” He gripped the edge of the table, looking down at her desperately. “You have to help me get her back—please.” He was panting now, the sorrow in his eyes overwhelming. “Please, you’re the only person I have right now.” She shuddered, locking her fingers through the hem of her blouse—Silky’s blouse. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I—I can’t!” The thought of going anywhere near Clara again made her want to fall to pieces. “I-I wouldn’t be of any help to you.” He eyed the flowers on the table and clenched his jaw. “Your magic is back,” he said in a non-accusatory voice. Still begging. “I released a fairy from his cage at the market, and he was able to magically vanish after a few minutes. You do have spells on your side, Valentina.” “B-but, I told you, I don’t know where Clara lives.” “There has to be something!” Although he didn’t raise his voice, his whispering took on a panicked intensity. His crushing fingers tightened on the table’s edge, and she couldn’t help but picture them closing around her. “Some clue that can lead us to her—please, anything!” She bit her lip, scrounging her mind for anything to make him stop looking at her like that—stop looking at her at all. And then, it came to her. “Ambrose Clemente!” she blurted. “An aristocrat from Westhelm. He visits her cottage personally, a-and he buys out all the available fairies. The only reason I didn’t end up with him is because I wasn’t properly healed yet.” She swallowed hard, looked at Jaune pleadingly. “It shouldn’t be hard to find him. Clara mentioned that he’s one of the wealthiest people in Westhelm.” Jaune exhaled sharply. “Ambrose Clemente. Okay. Okay, we may have a chance now.” He looked at her expectantly, face falling when he saw she was cowering away from him more than ever. “I… I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, but… please. I need all the help I can get, especially if this is a wealthy person we’re going after. And who knows what Clara has up her sleeve.” Valentina didn’t answer, looking down at a patch of yellow and orange flowers at her feet. The floorboards creaked, and she squeezed her eyes shut, certain that he would simply grab her and walk out the door whether she wanted it or not. “Valentina,” he whispered. His voice sounded further away than before. She tentatively peeked her eyes open, startled to find that he was no longer looming over her. Gaze traveling downward, she found him on his knees in front of the table, hands clenched on his lap. Literally begging for her help. She shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. “I won’t force you,” he said. “But you have to understand. She is my world. My heart. It hurts me to ask you to go anywhere near Clara and Westhelm again. I’m sorry. But if even the smallest part of you is willing to trust me… please.” He shuddered, making desperate eye contact with her. “Tell me to leave, and I will. But I need you to say it.” Shivering, Valentina inched forward. He could force her if he wanted. Could threaten to hurt her if she didn’t do as he said. Instead, he was begging, as if she held any power over him. And Silky could very well be undergoing torture while Valentina stood there like a coward. “Jaune,” she croaked. “Let’s go get her.” ~~~ The sun had already set by the time they reached Westhelm. In his panic, Jaune had still somehow managed to come up with a plan of how to find Ambrose Clemente—and it came in the form of an empty envelope he had bought from a shop on his way out of Camveil. The streets were less bustling than they had been yesterday. Folks were getting back to their homes, and shops were closing for the night. Before proceeding with the plan, Jaune ducked into an alley to check on Valentina. Impatient as he was to hunt down Clara, the poor fairy girl could not be left alone to her own terrified thoughts the whole time. Once he was certain no one was near enough to see, Jaune pulled at the lip of his front pocket and peered inside. “Are you doing alright?” he asked. “We’ve reached Westhelm.” “I… I’m fine,” she croaked, looking up at him with her scared little eyes while she clutched desperately at the fabric around her. He knew she was lying, but she had been much more terrified of the offer to ride on his shoulder. He supposed it hurt a bit, to not have her trust, but such thoughts were trivial compared to everything else assaulting his mind. “We’ll reach Clemente soon,” he promised, not bothering to ask if she wanted to move out of the pocket now. Not in Westhelm, were disgusted gazes would be set on her, even if there were less people. As he exited the alley, he tried not to focus on how Valentina trembled against his chest. “Pardon me!” Jaune approached the first patrolling guard he laid eyes on. The man looked him up and down warily, no doubt noticing right away that Jaune didn’t fit in with the other townspeople. But Jaune kept his tone light, somewhat exasperated. “Could you point me in the right direction? I have a message for Ambrose Clemente, and I seem to have gotten turned around.” He held up the empty envelope. The guard relaxed, then looked somewhat exasperated himself. “Clemente? That bastard. I used to be a private guard on his estate, until he ordered all of us away.” He shook his head. “You’re at the wrong end of the district, messenger. Head down this road and take a right at the very end. You’ll see the estate—you can’t miss it.” Jaune stifled his curiosity about why Ambrose Clemente would get rid of his guards, but that certainly made things easier. He thanked the guard graciously and moved on. By the time the estate came into view, the streets were utterly quiet. The large house stood on its own at the end of a cobblestone road, and indeed, there didn’t seem to be anyone patrolling the outside. Jaune kept the envelope visible, in any case. “Be ready, Valentina,” Jaune muttered as he stepped up to the door. He squared his shoulders and knocked three times. A few moments later, footsteps approached on the other side. The door creaked open slightly, revealing a man with dark hair and grey eyes. Just the way Valentina had described Ambrose. It took every ounce of Jaune’s self-control not to shove the door open all the way. “Hello. Can I help you?” Ambrose said in a cautious voice. “Miss Clara,” Jaune bit out. “Where can I find her cottage?” The man stared for all of two seconds before slamming the door shut without a word. Jaune heaved a sigh, balling his fists up at his sides. He was ready to break in, until he remembered the vulnerable cargo in his pocket. “I’m going to put you down,” he said apologetically. He reached in with a careful, practiced hand and pulled her out. She squirmed right until he set her down on the sill of a nearby front window. Wasting no time after that, he set his sights back on the door. A few well-aimed kicks at the handle broke the lock, and he shoved the door with his shoulder to open it all the way. Valentina stared at him with awe and terror, looking like she’d rather not climb back onto his hand when he offered it. But she did. After depositing her safely back inside his pocket, he stalked past the ruined door and found Ambrose backing away through the foyer with his hands raised slightly. The cold, cruel personality Valentina had described seemed to be absent at the moment. “Look, I don’t know what this is about—” Amrose started. “You’re going to tell me where Clara lives,” Jaune said in a low, dangerous voice as he advanced with measured steps. “Now.” “Why?” Ambrose shook his head. “If you want a fairy so badly, you can find her at the market. Unless… I mean, unless you intend to steal them?” He looked positively horrified at the idea. Jaune clenched his jaw furiously. “Oh, that would simply ruin your day, wouldn’t it? Not having a new plaything in your grasp the moment you want it?” Paling, Ambrose said nothing. He turned to run, but a table miraculously slid across the room and blocked the archway that led to the rest of the house. He could have climbed over it, perhaps, if he weren’t shocked enough to whirl and look at Jaune. Valentina was poking halfway out of the pocket, arms still poised up from the spell. Using Ambrose’s surprise against him, Jaune raced forward and grabbed him by the front of his tailored shirt. “Where is the cottage?” Jaune gritted out. Trying to wrench himself free, hands scrabbling to pry away Jaune’s, Ambrose was still staring at Valentina, who ducked away from eye contact. “You… your fairy isn’t collared,” Ambrose uttered. Jaune shoved him up against the wall by the archway, never letting go. “Don’t you dare even look at her. The next words out of your mouth better be the location of the cottage.” He braced one hand against Ambrose and raised a fist. “Or I’ll—” “No!” a tiny voice screamed. “Amie!” Jaune faltered and looked for the source of the voice—the ground. There, running beneath the table that blocked the archway, was a wingless fairy. She had pale blue hair tied in a half ponytail. She stopped behind one of the table legs, looking up at Jaune with horror. “Lark,” Ambrose croaked, trying to wrench away from Jaune more adamantly. “Get away, you shouldn’t be here!” When Jaune returned his narrowed eyes to Ambrose, the man looked back pleadingly, looking more panicked than ever. “Please, whatever you want, whatever you’re going to do, leave her out of this. Please—don’t hurt her!” “Let him go!” Lark shouted at Jaune. A sharp gust of wind ran through the room, seeming to originate from her. Her hair flew around wildly, and she balled her fists up at her sides, but she still looked at him beseechingly. “Please!” Jaune could barely think straight while both Ambrose and Lark pleaded with him. None of it made any sense. It wasn’t until he felt a small tug at the top of his shirt that he looked down. Valentina was still halfway out of the pocket, now looking at him with wide eyes. “She doesn’t have a collar, either,” Valentina said over the sound of whistling wind. “Let him go. Maybe… maybe we should see what he has to say.” With no small amount of hesitation, Jaune let go, then immediately tensed again when Ambrose bolted away from him. But he wasn’t trying to escape—he was rushing to Lark, scooping her up to hold her protectively as he backed away from Jaune with wary eyes. The threatening wind had settled down, but the tension in the air was still thick enough to cut with a knife. Although the fury burning through Jaune had faded into confusion, his voice remained gruff. “Start talking,” he said to Ambrose. “Who is she? Someone you bought from Clara?” “I didn’t buy her,” Ambrose said rather defensively. “He saved me,” Lark said, still rigid as though she would ignite her magic again at a moment’s notice. “From my previous owner—the one who bought me from Clara.” “But—” Valentina stammered a moment before gathering herself. “I saw you—you buy fairies from Clara.” Ambrose’s expression turned strangely sad as he eyed her. “I thought I recognized you. Saw you at her place not too long ago, didn’t I?” He sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t get to the market in time to stop someone else from buying you. I’m sorry.” “So you do buy fairies?” Jaune said. “To give them a safe haven, or to release them, if that’s what they prefer.” Ambrose kept his eyes on Valentina, and once more addressed her apologetically. “I saw how frightened you were at Miss Clara’s cottage. Sorry, again. She hates fairies. If she knew I was actually releasing them, she might not let me buy from her anymore. Then there’d be no saving anyone.” “He was quite upset that he couldn’t save you in time,” Lark put in kindly. “If that’s any consolation.” Her eyes moved up to Jaune’s face, wariness returning. “But it seems you’ve at least got someone who doesn’t collar you.” Jaune huffed, looking at the unusual pair skeptically. “She’s not my pet either. How do we know that Lark hasn’t been… brainwashed? Maybe you make her think you’re saving her when she’s really a pet.” “Watch your tongue,” Lark said, standing upright on Ambrose’s palm and glaring. Ever since he saved me, he’s done nothing but use his money to save others.” She looked up and behind her at Ambrose. “They should meet the others, to prove that we’re not lying.” Ambrose bristled. “Not meet. See them through the window, maybe.” He fixed his gaze back on Jaune and nodded. “Follow us.” Reluctantly, Jaune allowed himself to be led toward the back of the estate. He stayed on guard, ready for anything that Ambrose tried to pull. And by the number of looks he was getting thrown back at him, Ambrose was preparing himself for a potential attack as well. The backdoor led into a greenhouse, which opened up to the back garden. Ambrose made no move to open the door, however. He gestured for Jaune to join him at the window, which provided a view of the greenhouse and part of the garden. There were about a dozen small, makeshift houses amongst the greenery, and Jaune could see the movement of fairies from within. He gave a small exhalation of surprise. “You see?” Lark said, crossing her arms. “No one’s being held against their will. If they want to leave… Well, chances are they won’t survive out there—not without their wings. But if we can’t convince them to stay, they are welcome to take off.” “It’s never easy,” Ambrose muttered, staring through the window. “Sorry for the confusion,” Valentina said quietly. Her arms were folded on the lip of the pocket, and she flinched when Ambrose turned to face her. “I… I thought I was very lucky that you hadn’t bought me.” Ambrose smiled softly. “I’m glad that you seem safe now.” His gaze trailed up to Jaune’s face and became more guarded. “I can see you mean no harm to fairies, but… why are you so hell-bent on getting to Clara?” “She has my wife,” Jaune said, trying not to let his urgency get the best of him. “I… I saw her in that cage, and I—” He shuddered. “Please. Show me where Clara lives. I need to get Silky back.” Heavy silence settled over them all for a few moments. “Your wife is a fairy,” Lark said quietly. Jaune nodded. “Please…” She gave a sad, wistful sigh, her entire demeanor changing all at once. She twisted around to look up at Ambrose, tapping his palm. “He’s trying to save his wife, Amie! You have to help him!” Making no move to argue with her, Ambrose turned and shrode away. “Here.” He led them away from the back window and down two halls before he reached the door he wanted. It turned out to be a study. Several of the shelves seemed to have homemade ladders suited for fairies, but Jaune didn’t have the time to explore and wonder about Ambrose and Lark’s accommodations. Ambrose gingerly set Lark down on one corner of the massive desk in the middle of the room, then unrolled a map of the region. “There,” he said, pointing to a spot. “Right at the edge of those woods.” Jaune took care not to make Valentina tumble out of his pocket as he leaned over the map. He frowned and shook his head. “That can’t be right… You must be mistaken.” “He’s not,” Lark said, striding over to stand by Ambrose’s pointing finger. “But that’s Camveil territory.” “It… what?” Ambrose frowned in puzzlement. Valentina gave a soft gasp of disbelief. “If… if she lives in Camveil territory, then—” “What she’s doing there,” Jaune said slowly, “luring fairies and severing their wings… it’s illegal.”