#and practising trading instead of threatening to take

[rayadraws]

Resource guarding villain dogboy

[faelune-home]

FFXIV Write 2021 #28: Bow

(a/n: This became a very heavily backstory focused piece, although the original intent still shifted a bit even then. I wanted to give some focus to Fhara joining the guild in Gridania and then a bit on her training in her younger days, but then it shifted instead to being about a going away gift from an old mentor. :’D

So no spoilers, all backstory with a bit of the archer guild start. I had so many tabs open trying to double check Gridania’s laws on hunting and in the end, its the shortest section. XD

Word count: 1694)

“Mother Miounne did send word that a budding archer had arrived at Gridania’s gates,” Luciane said, already taking stock of Fhara, standing before her with an etched shortbow in hand, “I take it you’ll already have some experience with that bow if you would be willing to come here with it in hand.”

“Yes, miss!” Fhara nodded vigorously, “I was personally taught by one of the best hunters in my home village. O-of course, I know that Gridania has some laws or special restrictions on hunting, it’s not something I would be doing here.”

“Of course, but the experience is still good to have. However Gridania does have certain understandings about hunting, so long as there is a respect for the creature’s life when it is taken, and that its whole would be used fittingly. Did you have any such teachings in your own home?”

“Of course! Every piece of a creature has value, so its life shouldn’t be taken for vain sport. The meat for food, the pelts and furs for clothing, sinew can be used for bindings in weapons or furniture, even the bone can be used for flavouring stew. Anything that we couldn’t make use of or had no space to store, rather than cast it aside, we would trade it with other villages or sell it to merchants going to Radz-at-Han. The alchemists of the city always find some use for the material, I’ve heard.” Her tail flicked nervously, hoping the explanation was suitable for the guildmaster, keenly aware of some narby archers casting glances her way between their target practise.

She had naught to fear as Luciane gave an approving nod. “I’m glad to hear it. Even if your home does not have the same restrictions the Twelveswood does with having to appease the elementals or to mind the natural balance of the forest’s fauna, you clearly have been raised to have a lot of respect for the life you would take.” Fhara let out the breath she’d been holding, relief flooding through her. Enough that she was comfortable to ignore the stares, despite one still harshly boring through her from the side stairs.

Luciane continued, “However, you are not here with our guild as a hunter, so you’ll have less to fear in following our guidelines, though mayhap there will come a time when you will have to be aware of our laws for hunting animals for their meat or skins. I am merely pleased that you have a good understanding of the basics of archery to begin working from. To which end, I would like to see your skills in action, to see where further improvement can be made...”

--

“You always were set for bigger things in life--” Fhara’s ear pricked and she turned from packing her bags, her longtime mentor standing in the doorway-- “just a shame to be seeing you off all the same. I figured I could’ve taught you more.”

“I know you could have. But you’ve already taught me so much, Khuba. I’ll always be grateful.” The old tia’s tattered auburn ear flicked, the shade of the room away from the midday sun hiding the faint blush he had at her compliment.

“Aye well, you were always a fast learner. Even if I had more to teach - which I do, of course, I’ve been doing this long enough--” Fhara giggled at his preening. He always had time to praise himself-- “you probably would’ve picked it up quick enough and then what would I have for you. Maybe that Gridania guild can take you further than I could. I’ve heard lots of good things about the guild. A few bad things about the city, mostly that they’re arsey about people not from their parts. But you won’t let that get to you, will you?”

“No sir!” she said with a mock salute and a smirk, which widened when he barked with laughter.

“Oi, there’ll be none of that now. You haven’t called me that for years,” he sighed, an oddly wistful tone to his last sentence that caught Fhara off guard. However he brushed it off quickly with a flick of his tail, moving to ruffle her hair and earning a brief mew of protest from the younger woman.

“Enough of that now. You’re all ready to go, right? All packed?”

“Yes!” To further her response, she picked up the bag and tied it shut, hoisting it into his arms, letting him test the weight of it. Most of her packing was set for the journey from Thavnair to Aldenard, namely spare clothing and some dried foods to snack on, plus a bag of coins saved up over the years to buy anything extra she needed either in Radz-at-Han or the final port out of Thavnair, or for once she reached the continent. Anything else would be once she was settled in the city of Gridania, ready for her years training under the guild there, or for when she would begin her travels across the region.

“Feels good, although I don’t see a bow and quiver here anywhere. You think the Archer’s Guild is going to take you without a bow?” Khuba asked, a skeptical eyebrow raised over sharp green slitted eyes.

“Of course not, I was going to take one from here with me once the cart arrives.”

“And deprive us of one of our cherished weapons, will you?” Fhara rolled her eyes, already hearing the dramatic shift in his tone. “Imagine, we’re down a bow and the winter ends up harsh this year, the bitter winds coming in southbound from Ilsabard, and we can’t send out all our best to get food. What then?” She bit back the casual response that another could be made, partly out of a lack of certainty if the materials were available, and partly out of a curiosity as to where Khuba was going with his theatrics.

“What do you suggest then?” she asked, taking her bag from the older miqo’te and leaving the house she shared with her aunt - the woman in question busy in the kitchens that day until Fhara’s scheduled departure.

“I did have something in mind,” he said, following after her. In amongst the increased bustle of a busy village and the sounds of the wind in the trees, she almost would’ve missed his sharp whistle if he weren’t directly behind her. Turning back to him in confusion, Fhara was startled to see a cluster of younger kittens, mostly of his newest group of young trainees, rushing out from around the corner of her house toward them, the child at the front carrying a bow and quiver in hand that was certainly too big for himself. She gawped in surprise as the bow was offered up to her, expectantly proud smiles upon the younger one’s faces. 

Khuba leaned in and muttered into her ear, “It was their idea first if I’m honest. To make you something special for leaving.”

“Something you can use as well,” one of the kids added, “And remind you of home.”

“I--no I couldn’t. This is too special,” Fhara stuttered, trying to fight back the tears that were already threatening to fall. It was a lovely shortbow, a fine maple wood dyed dark red, with delicate swirls and designs carved into it, and a dark leather wrapped around the grip.

“Not at all, it's not often that people leave here to go off on grand adventures,” Khuba insisted, taking the bow from the child and holding it out directly to Fhara, who still hesitated to take it. “It’s a special occasion, Fhara, so that calls for a special gift. We ordered a few materials just for this.”

“Oh gods, I don’t deserve that,” Fhara coughed.

“But a big hero needs a special weapon,” one of the younger girls insisted, ear perked up tall, “If you’re going to make stories, they’ll have to talk about everything about you!”

“Yeah, it probably won’t last that long to be fair, even for a good quality make,” Khuba added quietly, making sure only Fhara heard it, “But it is a gift from all of us here. I’d like to say I carved it myself, but I can’t take that credit; nowadays my hands can stay steady for a shot, not so for the finer details.”

With a small yet warm smile, he said, “That part was your aunt. She’s probably the most proud out of all of us here, although I’m sure you knew that. Now you take this, and don’t forget to give her a big thanks before you leave, alright?”

The tears were already freely falling when Fhara took the bow and quiver in hand - there was another little sniffle as she recognised Leytai’s signature stitching along the leather for the arrow case - and all she could do was nod, unable to answer lest she break out into full sobs.

“Make sure you keep in touch as well,” Khuba nodded, “These kiddies will drive the rest of us mad without your stories, so they’ll need something to keep them entertained. Although I’m sure I could tell the old tales half as well if I tried.” Fhara finally giggled at Khuba’s self-flattery, accompanied by a smug smirk and a flick of his tail.

“Seriously though,” he said, a solemn look crossing his face and his voice dipping to Fhara’s ear only again, just loud enough over the sound of the giggles that had spread to the younger kids, “you’ll take the world by storm. I know it, your aunt knows it and most of these kiddies that damn near idolise you know it. Just don’t you forget it.”

--

She no longer used that old bow, it having long since been worn out from use. The wood didn’t bend the way it used to, creaking whenever it was pulled at, the leather was faded and unravelling from the grip, and the string was loosened and thinned, many of the strands snapped.

But she kept it hung up on the wall of her room with the Scions, a fond reminder of home and the man that had taught her much of what she knew.

[mariusperkins]

FIC: a thing with feathers

You are cordially invited to the wedding of Hella Varal, Fero Feritas, and Lem King, to be held three months hence in the city of Twinbrooke. Please mark down your preference of three dishes, if you will be attending with a guest, and if you have any seating preferences.

Co-written with the wonderful and amazing @madelinestarr

A/N: here it is: the last (main) part of the series!! Thank you to everyone who commented, left kudos, or yelled at us abt it on twitter, we love you all very much. Next week will be an interlude of sorts (featuring hadrian and sabrina's wedding night), and then we have a short-ish post-wedding mini-series, bc we just couldn't let this series go, I guess. tThanks to @theshehulkproject for her heroic efforts betaing this enormous thing, and to @poetiskt , for their amazing art (posted at the end of this fic)

Previously: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read it under the cut or on AO3

It was a quiet sort of afternoon. Fero, Thorondir, and Benjamin were playing a game of cards under the shade of the veranda at the back of Hadrian and Sabrina’s house while Hella and Lem went though sword fighting exercises. Hadrian sat in between both groups, trying to make sure nobody got hurt on either side of him, waiting.

Sabrina had been coming home very late for the past few weeks, and had gone straight to bed every evening. Hella hadn’t said anything to Lem and Fero about it, but Lem could tell that she was worried about how hard Sabrina was working (and also, how much Hadrian was worrying about how hard Sabrina was working).

Today they had “coincidentally” met Hadrian in the market after he’d picked Benjamin up from his lessons. Hadrian hadn’t seemed to believe in the coincidence of the situation, but he’d seemed happy enough for the company. Lem supposed he would enjoy the distraction as well, if Hella and Fero had had the same work schedule.

It was surprising then, when Sabrina arrived home while the sun was still up. She called out a friendly greeting to the group, pressing a quick kiss to Hadrian’s lips and one to Benjamin’s forehead as she passed through on the way to the bedroom.

The five of them were quiet, looking to Hadrian for a sign of what to do. He shook his head, looking in the direction Sabrina had gone. Lem and Fero looked at Hella, who shrugged and motioned for Lem to continue their sword practise.

They’d done more than a few rounds of practise before Sabrina came back out, dressed in less formal clothing. She nodded to them, and headed to the kitchen. At the sound of clattering of dishes, Hadrian and Thorondir made eye contact and Hadrian rose to join his wife in the kitchen.

They were quiet, tensing as they strained to hear what was going on in the kitchen. Lem heard the quiet burble of voices and then Sabrina’s laugh from the kitchen. Some of the tension went out of Hella’s shoulders at the sound.

Dinner was served soon and after, when Benjamin was left to his own devices for a time, they moved to the lounge room with bottle or two of red wine opened to celebrate the start of the weekend together.

Sabrina, especially, seemed glad for the small break. She had grown flush, leaning mostly on Hadrian as they sat together on one of the couches. His fingers quietly drew small shapes onto the back of her hand as she spoke about her work week; her voice taking on a louder and louder volume as she aired her frustrations.

“And, Hella I love you, you know this,” said Sabrina, making a wide gesture, “but sometimes I want to murder every Ordenan I’ve ever met.”

“I’ve been told we tend to inspire that feeling,” said Hella, amused.

“Not you,” said Sabrina. “See, the thing about you is that you have a sharp blade and a sharp tongue. These Ordenans have to work with have dull tongues and duller minds. They’re just... they’re so roundabout in their threats, and I’d rather them just put a blade to my throat instead of threatening every trade route from here to... oh, that new place of theirs... Nacre?”

Fero looked up from where he had been sketching a plant leaf for Lem’s journal. “Nacre?”

Sabrina nodded, and took another large gulp from her glass before continuing. “Some city on the coast south of here, Ordena just took it over, which is a whole other thing. They found something called apples there? They won’t fucking shut up about apples.”

Fero and Thorondir made eye contact, grinning. Sabrina never cursed.

Hadrian nodded, making a quiet hum of agreement from where he was leaning against her side.

Sabrina sighed. “Hadrian, my love, your find of that stone arm was amazing for us in the creation of our own stony army, but Ordena has just retaliated with moving more southward with an army of their own, and now they’re discussing their ties with Rosemerrow.”

Fero rolled his eyes. “Rosemerrow has ties with everybody, no way they’d throw their lot in one way or the other.”

“You haven’t seen the reports on the size of the Ordenan forces,” said Sabrina grimly.

Lem tapped his lips thoughtfully. “Could we do anything to help at all?”

Sabrina tipped back the rest of her glass. “Not unless you have a way for the New Archives, Velas, Rosemerrow, Ordena, the Old University, and Auniq to get along. After this week it seems like an even more impossible task than before diplomatic lines were open at all.”

Lem knew that Sabrina was saying these things as an ending to the conversation, but his mind kept ticking over as the evening went on, considering the different threads between all the places in Hieron. It wasn’t until Lem put Benjamin to bed that evening, when he spotted a picture book on the shelf of the boy’s room, that the idea began to come together in his mind.

He sat on the floor, his back resting against the couch where Fero and Hella sat, their hands brushing against his shoulders occasionally as he read the book to himself. Hella and Hadrian discussed Hadrian’s upcoming sermons, and mostly ignored Fero and Sabrina, who were making goofy faces at one another and giggling.

Thorondir brought Fero and Sabrina cups of water, before sitting next to Lem on the floor, leaning over to read over his shoulder.

“What’re you reading?”

“Benjamin had this picture book, and the colors just seemed nice.”

“What’s it... what’s it about?”

“Two princesses are betrothed to each other because their families want to make their countries allies. But the princesses secretly fall in love and have to keep it a secret because the families secretly hate each other.”

“Why do the families hate each other?”

“Fear. They’re both so powerful. If one of them falters for a second, the other kingdom could destroy them. The daughters falling in love makes them vulnerable.”

“So what happens?”

Lem looked up, raising his eyebrows at Throndir. “Well, Thorondir, it’s a children’s book. So in the end the two get married and raise a very happy joint kingdom together.”

“That’s not how it happens in real life,” Thorondir said.

Lem nodded. “Right, but we want to raise our kids to believe that things can go well through diplomatic forced marriages. Weddings are a time to show opulence but also they’re like… this show of peace? It’s a celebration of love,” Fero put his hand on Lem’s head, and Lem paused, turning slightly to kiss Hella’s knee. “But it’s also about a lot of people who don’t usually like each other getting into one room and drinking alcohol and dancing to loud music and playing nice for the people getting married. And maybe agreeing to try and play nice in the future, too.”

Thorondir laughed. “At home it was always just... you found someone and that was it. There wasn’t a lot of time for celebration, y’know? You just had to hope for somebody with warm feet who had your back in the woods.”

“It’s a bit like that in the Archives. You try to find other people whose pattern doesn’t disrupt yours. I don’t know that a wedding is a good diplomatic move outside of a children’s tale, but then again,” said Lem, looking at Sabrina pointedly, “I am not the diplomat.”

“It depends on what you’re trying to achieve,” said Sabrina. “Marriages like that work more as a short-term fix. They’re a way of getting people to the table and making them stay there long enough to work out a decent cease-fire and maybe trade deal.”

“Too bad you can’t do that with the Ordenans and,” Fero waved a hand, “everyone else.”

“It would have be a pretty big marriage to accommodate that many groups,” said Throndir, laughing a little.

Sabrina looked thoughtful. “Maybe not so big. Maybe if it were a few key groups…”

Hadrian pressed a kiss to her hand. “Stop thinking about work. This is a time to rest.”

“I am, I will,” said Sabrina, rising a little unsteadily on her feet, “I just want to check something.”

Hadrian sighed.

“Five minutes,” said Sabrina, heading for their study.

When the three of them left for the night, Sabrina had still not re-emerged. Hadrian didn’t seem surprised, mostly shrugging off their concern.

“I’ll make sure she gets to bed,” said Hadrian, “It’s hard for her sometimes to step back, and this is weighing heavily on her.”

“Tell her a very clever woman once gave me advice about the value of weight-sharing,” said Hella.

Hadrian chuckled. “Yes, I think I’ve heard about its value once or twice myself.”

Sabrina sent a messenger for them the next day, asking them to stop by for lunch. When they arrived she ushered them into the kitchen, making small talk last until they’d finished their meal.

“I have a proposal for you.”

“Sorry, I’m already spoken for,“ said Fero.

“Funny you should bring up your wedding actually,” said Sabrina, “because I’ve had an idea about it. More importantly, about how you can have something nicer than standing in a notary's office.” She paused. “The city of Velas will pay for it.”

There was silence for a moment as the three of them stared at her.

“Okay,” said Hella, “can they give me my own horse too?”

“And a library for Lem,” said Fero, “since we’re just, like, asking for stuff.”

“No. Well, maybe,” said Sabrina, “I suppose it depends how well the wedding goes.”

“I mean, hopefully it’ll end with us being married,” said Fero, “so that seems pretty good to me.”

“Perhaps I should explain what I mean in further detail,” said Sabrina, “I was thinking of what you said last night Lem, about arranged marriages - the reason they’re used as a tool like that is to bring two warring sides together in a neutral, even positive, setting. And then you, Fero, said that it was a shame we couldn’t use the same technique with Ordena. Well, I believe that we can.” Sabrina looked directly at Hella as she finished speaking.

Hella frowned. “If your idea is that I enter into an arranged marriage with some boring Ordenan diplomat-”

Sabrina laughed. “No, you’re the Ordenan.”

“Some boring Velasian diplomat then.”

“No, no, I mean-” Sabrina spread her hand in front of her, gesturing to Fero and Lem, “You’re an Ordenan marrying an orc from the New Archives and a halfling from Rosemerrow, and you live together in Velas. That’s four groups represented already. Four groups willing to come to neutral ground and talk it out.”

“Sabrina,” said Lem, quietly, “we don’t exactly hold a lot of sway with those groups. That’s sort of why we live here in the first place.”

Under the table hidden from Sabrina’s view, Fero took Lem’s hand and squeezed it. Lem squeezed back.

Sabrina waved a hand. “That part of it doesn’t matter. What matters is what it represents to people - a celebration of a strong union. The kind of celebration the convinces isolated groups that it’s better to talk things out instead of sealing themselves off. The kind of celebration that gives certain warfaring groups a cover to hold unauthorised diplomatic meetings where things can actually be discussed instead of just posturing about army size for days at a time.”

“You really think it would work?” said Hella, “A wedding?”

“I could show you the historical precedent, tell you anecdotes that other diplomats have shared with me, but…” Sabrina took a deep breath. “I really do think this could work.”

“If we were willing to do it,” said Hella.

“Yes,” said Sabrina, “and, as I said, the city of Velas would be more than happy to cover the cost of the wedding, including transport.”

“Transport?” asked Lem.

“Well, yes, we couldn’t hold it here, it would have to be somewhere more neutral,” said Sabrina. “Somewhere like... Twinbrooke.”

“Twinbrooke,” said Fero.

“Yes,” said Sabrina, “they do a lot of trade and have a lot of treaties, but they haven’t sided with anyone in particular. It’s a nice, neutral location.”

“And the bridge would slow down, say, an army, by a lot if they tried to crash the party,” said Fero.

Sabrina smiled. “That too.”

“Sabrina,” said Hella. “Could we have a moment, to discuss this?”

“Of course,” said Sabrina. “I’ll just… go check on Benjamin.”

Hella waited until Sabrina’s footsteps had faded, and then sighed.

“Well?” said Fero.

“Well what?”

“Well, what are we going to do?” said Fero, bouncing a little in his seat.

“Oh no,” said Hella, “The two of you are responsible for giving Sabrina this idea, this is not my problem.”

“You’re going to be kind of a key part of the wedding,” said Lem.

Fero grinned, slipping his free hand into Hella’s. “Couldn’t do it without you.”

Lem smiled. “Yes.” He bit his lip. “But I meant more in the sense that… there will probably be a lot of Ordenans there.”

“I think that’s the point,” said Hella, “There’s supposed to be Ordenans there. And Archivists, and halflings, and whoever else Velas is trying to wrangle into this treaty.”

“The split with our homes wasn’t quite as… volatile as yours was,” said Lem.

“You got arrested,” said Hella flatly.

“Morbash wouldn’t have killed me,” said Lem. “So, comparatively-”

“Both of those sound pretty volatile to me,” said Fero, “especially if they happen at our wedding.”

“You think we shouldn’t do it?” asked Lem, looking down at Fero curiously.

“I didn’t say that,” said Fero, “just that, you know, we’d need to be careful.”

“If we did it,” said Hella.

“Yeah,” said Fero.

They sat in silence for a moment. Lem stared down at the table. Fero jiggled his leg, and it brushed against Lem’s under the table. He could see, out of the corner of his eye, Hella and Fero’s intertwined hands.

“I think-” began Lem.

“If we-” said Hella, at the same time.

“It’s just that-” said Fero, over the top of them.

They paused, looking at each other for a moment before breaking into giggles. Fero pressed his face into Lem’s side, and Lem leant into the contact. Anything they did together would work out as long as they could stay together.

Lem let out a long breath, trying to get himself under control. “Okay. Okay. I’ll just- I think we should do this. It wouldn’t just help Sabrina, it would be helping all of Hieron, and I-”

Hella reached out and caught Lem’s hand where he was gesturing. “I think so too.”

“So do I,” said Fero. “It might be nice to have a big fancy wedding. A chance to dress all nice, have a big party -- what could go wrong?”

----

Fero was sixteen the first time he fell in love. Their families were neighbours, and they’d walk through the fields to their tutor together, and Fero would try his best to make her laugh. On one of their walks back one day, she kissed him, and Fero had felt like he could have flown the rest of the way home.

Predictably, it didn’t work out.

“But I thought you liked me,” said Fero.

It sounded stupid, when he said it out loud. He felt stupid.

“I do like you,” said Azolla, “but I have to be serious about the future. My family has a lot of names, Fero, and they want me to add to them.”

“So you can add my name.”

Azolla just laughed.

Fero took a different route to their tutor after that. Going through the forest took longer, but it was worth it to avoid awkward conversations. After all, birds have better things to do than ask about things like names.

----

The carriage rocked as it bumped along the dusty road to Twinbrooke. Hella would have preferred to ride, as Hadrian was doing, but Sabrina had insisted on them all sharing a carriage. Their entrance into Twinbrooke was just as much a part of the show of Velasian generosity as any other part of their wedding.

Lem and Fero seemed happy enough, and Hella supposed it was a nice carriage as carriages went - it was large, with more than enough room for all of them, the plush seats covered in a rich, soft velvet.

Still, she did miss the open air. Maybe it was her Ordenan blood - after all, a people whose life is spent of the sea aren’t meant to travel in tiny boxes, not matter how comfortable those boxes are.

Lem reached over and took her hand, and she looked away from the window, smiling at him.

Or perhaps it was that if the three of them had ridden ahead, they could have enjoyed the city a little before it was flooded with diplomats. They wouldn’t have much time to themselves in the coming month, between the final stages of wedding planning and the various parties Sabrina had scheduled in for them.

She’d been to Twinbrooke before, passing through on her way to somewhere else, grabbing a hot meal and a night’s sleep in a bed after a long stretch on the road. She’d certainly be seeing a different side of it this time around.

There was a shout from someone ahead, and Hella poked her head out of the carriage window. Hadrian rode up to them from the front of the carriage procession, dusty and grinning.

“We’re almost at the outskirts of town,” said Hadrian, as he passed by, “it’ll be slow-going across the bridge but we’re almost there.”

He continued down the line, his horse kicking up more dust as he went. Hella passed the message on to the rest of the carriage.

“Finally,” said Fero, bouncing a little in his seat as he looked out the window.

“Excited to get into town or for the end of the journey?” asked Sabrina, laughing a little.

“Excited to be out of this carriage,” said Fero, “Don’t get me wrong Sabrina, this is very fancy and nice, but it’s also so slow.”

“Well perhaps next time you can fly on ahead and stay with relatives while you wait for us to catch up,” said Sabrina.

Fero made a face. “If that’s my only other option I think I’d rather just be slow.”

“You could always stay with my relatives,” said Lem, “If they’re in town.”

Hella squeezed Lem’s hand. Despite the lack of correspondence, Lem was still hopeful that someone from his family group still might show up. Lem was full of excuses on their behalf, from the snow slowing down their progress to the bureaucracy of getting personal messages through the New Archives internal mail system.

Fero stayed silent on the subject, pressing his lips together whenever the subject of Lem’s family group came up. Hella suspect he shared her growing belief that they wouldn’t be coming.

Not that it would look particularly out of place not to have Lem’s family in attendance. Fero’s family was reluctant to leave Rosemerrow, and Hella’s family, well… the less said about them the better.

She still had the letter from her father with his response to the idea of their wedding balled up in the bottom of her pack, as though by doing so she could hide his words away from her mind. None of what he’d written had been particularly pleasant - her father’s anger was clear on the page despite his messy handwriting, ink splotches obscuring words as he listed the ways in which this marriage betrayed her family.

Hella had made sure to hide the letter before Lem and Fero had seen it. They were having enough of a bad time with their own family groups to have to take on her’s as well.

Lem squeezed her hand, leaning over kiss her cheek. She leant back against him as he sat back. She might not have told them in so many words, but Lem and Fero seemed to have some sense of it anyway, following her lead in guiding any wedding planning talk away from the topic of her family.

She tried to push the memory of her father’s letter from her mind as their carriage began its slow journey over the bridge into Twinbrooke. She could see the grouping of willow trees that lined the far bank, their leaves brushing against the water.

There was a group gathered at the end of the bridge. The carriages that had made it over the bridge had stopped nearby, and Hella could see people getting out the chat with the group gathered there.

“Looks like we have a welcoming party,” said Hella.

Sabrina stood, bracing herself along the side of the carriage to move over to Hella’s side, looking out the window.

“Oh good,” said Sabrina, sounding relieved, “they’ve sent Nirran.”

“Nirran?” said Lem.

“An old friend of mine,” said Sabrina, “They lived in Velas when we were younger, until their parents were assigned to Twinbrooke permanently. They work for the mayor now, I think.”

“They must be trying to make a good impression on us if they’ve sent an old friend of yours,” said Hella.

“Good,” said Sabrina.

Fero laughed, and leant over Hella and Lem’s laps to lean out the window. Lem’s caught hold of the back of Fero’s shirt at the same time as Hella put a hand on his arm. Fero turned his head to look back at them.

“I don’t want to start our time in Twinbrooke by having to pull you out of the river,” said Hella.

Fero sighed, moving back inside the carriage. He stayed on Hella’s lap, stretching his legs out so that they were on top of Lem’s and leaning his back against the side of the carriage.

“If I fell I could have just turned into a bird on the way down and flown back up here,” said Fero, “I would have been fine.”

“But what if you couldn’t do it in time?” said Lem, “And anyway, I don’t want to have to see you fall.”

“Okay,” said Fero, rolling his eyes, “No leaning out of the carriage, for your sake, because I would be perfectly fine.”

Lem smiled, resting his hands on top of Fero’s legs. “Thank you.”

Hella kissed the top of Fero’s head and he leant into her, so he was leaning against her chest. He stayed that way until the carriage pulled to a stop.

Hadrian was waiting for them, helping Sabrina down from the carriage steps and leading her towards a short, dark haired human in a deep blue tunic before heading towards the next carriage that made its way off the bridge. Hella hesitated, then followed him, Lem and Fero behind her.

“Ah,” said Sabrina, “Nirran, this is Hella Varal, Lem King, and Fero Feritas.”

Nirran inclined their head. “It is an honour to host your union in Twinbrooke. Have you visited here before?”

“A few times,” said Hella.

Fero nodded. “I think I came a couple of times when I was a kid.”

“I haven’t,” said Lem, “but I’ve read a lot about it’s history and it sounds fascinating.”

Nirran smiled. “Well, I hope you get a chance to look around while you’re here.”

“If they have time,” said Sabrina. “We’re on quite a tight schedule, as you can well imagine.”

“Of course,” said Nirran, “and you must be tired from your journey.” They nodded to the carriages. “They’ll be too big to fit down some of our more historic streets, so I’ve organised some of our own more, shall we say, city-appropriate carriages to take you to your rooms.”

Sabrina smiled. “Thank you. I hope we’ll have time to catch up while I’m here.”

Nirran waved a hand. “Of course we will, it might just have to wait until after the main event.”

“You’re probably right,” Sabrina turned to the three of them, “You should probably head off and try to get some rest. We start on planning meetings tomorrow.”

Fero groaned, prompting a laugh from Nirran.

“Sabrina is right,” said Nirran, “Although -- are you coming to the planning meeting tonight?”

“In the council chambers?” said Sabrina, “I was -- I take it you’ll be there as well?”

Nirran nodded.

“Then it will be good to make a start with someone already in my corner,” said Sabrina, “if you had time before then, perhaps you could discuss your strategy with me on the way to our rooms?”

“Of course,” said Nirran. They turned to Hella, Lem, and Fero, gesturing to one of the carriages. “That carriage will take you to the place you will be staying while you’re here in Twinbrooke. I tried to make it a little more out of the way, although I don’t know know how much time you’ll have to spend there privately.”

“Thank you,” said Hella. “I’m sure we’ll make time.”

Lem blushed.

Sabrina laughed, making a shooing motion at them towards the carriages.

One they were inside, the driver headed off, taking a winding route through the city. Lem looked excitedly out the window as they travelled, pointing out architecture and spouting bits and pieces of history he knew. Hella listened with half an ear, letting the rhythm of Lem’s words wash over her and she leant against his shoulder. Fero sat on her other side, fidgeting in his seat a little and occasionally leaning over Hella’s lap to look at something Lem had pointed out.

The carriage stopped in front of a small two-story house on the edges of Twinbrooke. There was a small stone path leading up to the front door, and Hella could see tall trees around the back of the house.

Inside, the house was dark and cool. It was a simple house - the bottom floor was a entry-way, a small kitchen, and a lounge, with the bathroom, bedroom, and a small study upstairs. Upon the discovery of the bedroom, Fero immediately flopped down onto the bed.

“Who knew carriage rides were so tiring?” said Fero, making a wide gesture with his arms.

Lem sat down on the bed next to him, pulling his shoes off before lying down next to Fero. Fero rolled over, throwing an arm and leg over Lem and burying his face in Lem’s shoulder. Hella looked at them both for a moment before pulling off her boots and lying down next to Lem.

Fero propped his chin up on Lem’s shoulder to look at them both. “Hey.”

Hella smiled. “Hi.”

“Hello,” said Lem.

“We’re really doing it,” said Fero, grinning, “We’re really getting married.”

“I hope so,” said Hella, “otherwise this seems like a lot of trouble for nothing.”

“No, I mean, we’re getting married,” said Fero, “That’s… it’s…”

Fero trailed off, tracing small patterns on Lem’s chest with his finger.

“Yeah,” said Hella.

Lem raised a hand, clumsily petting Fero’s head. “Yeah.”

Hella reached her arm over Lem, so that she was resting her hand on Fero’s side. She pressed a kiss to the side of Lem’s neck.

They drifted off to sleep like that, fully clothed and tangled together.

----

Looking back, Hella would say that her first love came during childhood.

A group of warriors had passed through her village. Hella wasn’t sure why exactly - she had a vague memory of her mother talking about them visiting the factory where she worked, but she hadn’t been paying attention at the time.

She and her siblings had snuck out to where the group was encamped, watching the warriors go through their training drills in the morning and evenings. Her siblings talked excitedly about the footwork and loud, ringing blows and the shining armour, but Hella had another reason to watch: the group’s commander, a woman with short hair as dark as the deep ocean.

Hella spoke to the woman only once. She’d been trying to copy the training movements she’d seen earlier, clumsily swinging a large stick in place of a sword as she daydreamed about the group’s commander leading her into glorious battle.

“Your footwork needs improvement.”

Hella dropped the stick and turned to see the commander standing before her, assessing Hella with the same critical eye as she gave her warriors during training.

“And this should go without saying,” continued the commander, “but never drop your sword.”

She picked up the stick and held it out to Hella. Hella stepped forward and took it, holding her breath.

“You take care of your sword, and it’ll take care of you,” said the commander.

“This is a stick,” said Hella.

The commander laughed. It was a rough sound, but a nice one.

“Same goes for your stick,” said the commander, “at least until you get a real sword.”

The commander ruffled Hella’s hair and left, walking back towards her camp.

Hella carried the stick with her everywhere she went, until eventually she broke it over her brother’s head. After that she started asking her parents for a sword.

----

They had been looking through books for hours, and Fero was bored. He’d actually really stopped properly reading anything in front of him a while ago and had moved on to lazily flipping through the fabric samples Sabrina had given them. She’d marked out comments next to them, suggestions of why they would or wouldn’t make a good choice, none of which seemed to have any connection to the actual fabric.

Strong family ties to Velas, but very few trades with Ordena, Sabrina had written next to some rich green fabric, Possibly acceptable, as long as paired with fabric made wholly in Ordena.

Fero sighed, loudly. Hella and Lem didn’t look up, which was fair, as he’d also been doing that for hours.

“I’m telling you guys,” said Fero, “there’s still time to go hide out in woods. We wouldn’t have to deal with any of this in the woods.”

“Hiding in the woods is not a plan, Fero,” said Lem.

“It is so.”

“How are we going to get married if we go and live in the woods?” said Lem.

At the word married Fero felt a strange flutter in his chest and he bit his lip, trying not to grin. It didn’t matter how many times it came up during the long, long process of wedding-planning, he loved hearing it every time, and he especially liked hearing it when Hella and Lem said it.

“We’d figure it out,” said Fero, “I could ask an animal to do it or something.”

Lem set his quill down, looking up at Fero curiously. “Can animals do that?”

Fero kicked his feet back and forth against the side of the couch. “Maybe. If I asked them.”

“We’re not getting married by an animal,” said Hella, not looking up from where she was writing something out, “Hadrian’s going to do it.”

“Hella, come on, just think about it. We could skip all this,” Fero gestured towards the books and papers scattered across the table, “and get right to the being married part. No more looking at guest lists, no more meetings to decide about tablecloths colours, no more long boring parties with people we don’t know.”

Hella paused, making an overly-exaggerated thoughtful face, tapping her pen against the parchment.

“No,” said Hella flatly.

Fero made an annoyed sound and flopped back down on the couch.

“And we’re still going to that thing tonight,” said Hella.

Fero made a louder annoyed sound, throwing his arm dramatically over his eyes. He heard Lem snort, and then the sounds of a chair scraping back and the soft sound of Lem’s footsteps. Lem lifted Fero’s hand up, smiling down at him. Fero struggled not to smile back.

Lem sat down next to Fero. “Come on Fero, it’ll be fine. The other three parties were fine.”

“No they weren’t, they sucked and this one’s going to suck twice as much because a bunch of Ordenans are going to be there. No offense, Hella,” he added.

Hella hummed. “Some taken, but I get it.”

She got up and walked to the couch, leaning over the back of it to put her hand on Fero’s head, running her fingers lightly through his hair. It felt very nice, and Fero struggled to keep the look of annoyance on his face.

“Sabrina said you won’t have to talk to them.”

“Meaning she doesn’t want me to talk to them because she thinks I’m going to cause a diplomatic incident.”

Hella’s lips quirked into a quick smile. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe,” said Fero, “if one of them tried anything.”

“If any Ordenan tries anything,” said Hella, “I’ll kill them. But we still have to go.”

Fero looked up at both of them. “Do we really have to?”

“Sabrina promised this was the last one,” said Hella, “After this, all the groups have had their own introductory welcoming parties, and they can’t organise any others because… I don’t know. Some kind of treaty. Sabrina was explaining it but I think I stopped listening after the words last party you have to go to.”

“It’s because if they had any more, then one group would have had more introductory parties than another group,” said Lem, “it’s all about balance, really, it was very interesting.”

Fero poked Lem’s leg with his toes. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Just keep reminding yourself that doing this is paying for our wedding,” said Hella.

“I wish we were getting paid for this,” muttered Fero.

“We’re getting paid in trade,” said Hella, “we do this for Velas, and they do this for us. We wouldn’t be able to afford it otherwise.”

“We would,” said Fero, “if we could have done it like we wanted to do it in the first place, before the Velasian council got involved.”

“Well it’s too late for that now,” said Lem, cutting them both off before they could get too far into what was, at this point, a well-trod argument.

Fero let out a breath. “I guess.” He paused. “It’s still not too late to go hide out in the woods though.”

Hella laughed, leaning her body up and over the back of the couch, bracing her hand beside his head to kiss him.

----

If you asked Lem what his first love was, he would probably say that it was the collection of pre-Erasure books, held in a deep cavern of the New Archives. If pressed, he might even say that he had one or two favourite books in particular.

He would probably not tell you about his favourite book, the one that he would creep out of the dormitories at night to read as a young orc, the one he snuck out of the library and hid under his mattress even though doing so was strictly against the rules. The one that was filled with tales of daring adventurers, with his favourite tale about a human on a quest across the ocean, fighting all manner of beasts and gods to return to the home they loved.

And he definitely wouldn’t tell you about the series of dreams he had about that particular adventurer. Some patterns, after all, are personal.

----

The party was much the same as the other three before. Various groups of dignitaries and people of strategic social importance would enter. Sabrina would greet those people, somehow managing to remember names and titles without having to be reminded, and guide them towards Hella, Lem, and Fero. Thankfully Sabrina had mostly kept those conversations short, before she swept the group away to the people they were really there to meet. Every entrance was timed down to the minute so the meeting between various groups could be passed off as the natural ebb and flow of a social gathering if necessary.

Hella hoped Sabrina was accomplishing what needed to. All Hella seemed to get from these parties was tired feet and a pinched feeling in her face from forcing herself to smile her way through conversations.

She was thankful that Lem seemed happy enough to keep their current conversation going as she nodded her way through without really paying attention to what was being said. Her focus was on keeping a firm grip on Fero’s shoulder. He’d been twitchy all night and she suspected that he might make a break for the window (not that she would blame him).

Fero leant his head back so that was leaning a little on her arm. Hella suppressed a sigh. They’d only just arrived and she already felt ready to leave. It had been such a long day, full of tiresome people asking her tiresome questions, and she longed to go back to their small room and fall asleep with Lem and Fero beside her.

“Excuse me?” said Lem, his sharp tone snapping her out of her daydream.

“Well a wedding between three people of different… cultures isn’t something I’ve ever even heard of,” said Jayne Nightmint.

“Well, I suppose-” said Lem, his voice tight.

“I mean, and not to get too vulgar here, but I’m just curious” continued Jayne, “how would such a union even work?”

“None of your business,” said Hella.

“Very well actually,” said Fero.

Lem blushed.

“Oh! Oh!” said Jayne, her hands fluttering a little in a performance of embarrassment, “I didn’t mean any offense, you understand. I was just curious, because it’s so unusual.”

“It is,” Hella agreed.

Lem and Fero looked at Hella.

“It makes more sense when you understand how we met,” said Hella.

“Oh really?” said Jayne, “I supposed you were on some grand adventure.”

“Well actually,” said Hella, “I won them in a card game.”

“Really?”

“No, she’s just joking, Ordenan humour” said Sabrina, swooping into the conversation and putting her hand on Hella’s shoulder. “Sorry, they have lots of people still left to greet, you understand”

Sabrina guided them quickly away, hustling them to the side of the room.

“Hella…”

“I know, I know,” said Hella, “but you should have heard what she was asking us.”

“I can guess,” said Sabrina, rubbing her forehead. “I’m sorry about that. I know what getting those questions can be like.”

“I’m pretty sure you don’t, actually,” said Fero.

“I suppose not exactly,” said Sabrina, “but being married to a paladin… some people are very curious about how he prioritises between myself and our god. As if Our Lord Samothes would begrudge me borrowing Hadrian for a few hours.”

Her attention was caught by something behind them, and she frowned.

“Ah. The Ordenan group has arrived,” said Sabrina, her voice switching back to a smooth, professional tone, “Hella, if you would follow me? I think they’ll be more… receptive if it’s just you, to start off with at least.”

Hella shrugged. She squeezed Fero’s shoulder, before following Sabrina away.

----

Lem watched as Sabrina eased Hella into conversation with the Ordenan group. It seemed to be going okay - no one in that seemed particular happy to be engaging in conversation (apart from Sabrina), but they didn’t look as though they were preparing to exchange blows.

He and Fero hovered by the ornate punch bowl, mostly so that Lem could hold a glass of punch and therefore have something to do with his hands.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” said Fero.

“Well, Sabrina’s there,” said Lem, “so probably something very neutral. The weather maybe, or the ocean tides? Although Ordena and Velas have strong histories of seafaring, so maybe not.”

“Sounds like a great conversation,” said Fero flatly, “it’s definitely great that we came.”

Lem squeezed Fero’s shoulder, and Fero reached up and covered Lem’s hand with his own.

“Remember,” said Lem, “Just this last one and then we get a break from everything before the wedding.”

“Not too much of a break, from what I remember of wedding planning customs,” said a voice behind them.

Lem turned sharply, trying not to spill his drink. It was Ellaire, one the elders of the New Archives, looking amused. With her was Hadrian, who looked far less amused.

“Ah,” said Lem, “Yes. Well.”

Ellaire chuckled.

“Has, um, has Twinbrooke been treating you well?” asked Lem, feeling as though his voice sounded much too high.

“Well enough,” said Ellaire.

“And your journey here,” said Lem, straining for other neutral topics, “that was okay?”

Ellaire smiled. “As smooth as one could hope for given the snow. I heard you recently went on a journey of your own, recovering some items with The Great Fantasmo.”

“Oh, yes,” said Lem excitedly, “it was fascinating really, we-”

Hadrian coughed.

“I mean,” said Lem, clearing his throat, “Yes, we found a few things, but they’re still being properly documented. You know what these things are like.”

He took a sip of punch, trying to cover his awkwardness.

Ellaire smiled. “I do indeed. Perhaps if it is not the correct time to talk about that you will tell me how that project of yours is going? There are some others with me from the Archives who are… curious to hear more of it.”

Lem choked slightly on his punch. “Really?”

“Though it is not pre-Erasure, such a task is… of interest,” said Ellaire. She nodded towards a group of orcs opposite them. “If you have a moment?”

“I- Sure!” said Lem, hurriedly setting down his cup. He looked down at Fero. “Oh, um, do you want to-”

“I’ll stay here with Fero,” said Hadrian.

“Great!” said Lem brightly.

----

This party, Fero decided, was the worst one yet. Not only had he gotten separated from Hella and Lem, but now he was stuck talking to Hadrian. Hadrian might have been Hella’s friend, but that did not seem to have endeared Fero to him. He also had a tendency to hover, watching Fero in a way that reminded Fero strongly of his grandfather.

Fero’s grandfather had not liked him very much.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” said Fero.

“I’m not babysitting,” said Hadrian, “I’m keeping you company.”

“Well I don’t want your company.”

Hadrian took a firm grip on Fero’s arm.

“Look, Fero, I know you don’t like it but these events are important,” said Hadrian, keeping his voice low, “so just… try to behave, okay?”

“I am so sick of you saying that!” said Fero. “I am behaving.”

“Well, you’re not behaving very well.”

“Compared to what,” said Fero, “Hella and Lem don’t have a problem with how I behave.”

“That’s because they have gone against all reason and fallen in love with you,” said Hadrian, “and even they-”

Hadrian broke off, going very still as his attention turned to something behind Fero. Fero twisted to look. Sabrina was approaching them, arm-in-arm with a handsome human man. When Fero looked back at Hadrian, Hadrian had a pinched-looking smile plastered on his face. He let go of Fero’s arm but put his hand instead on Fero’s shoulder, keeping him in place. Fero wriggled his shoulder and Hadrian frowned down at him.

“Behave yourself,” whispered Hadrian.

“Fero!” said Sabrina, smiling at the two of them, “Allow me to introduce one of my very good friends, Prince Ephraim the Gifted, His Summer Son, Lord of the Coming Spring, Prophet of the Unwavering Flame, and Silver Hand of Samothes. Ephraim works for the church, of course. He’s been doing some wonderful work down in Rosemerrow lately.”

Ephraim inclined his head in greeting. Fero dutifully shook the beautiful man’s hand.

“Fero Feritas, Son of the Fields, Life of the Granite,” Fero added, mostly to annoy Hadrian.

Before Hadrian could say anything, Sabrina let go of Ephraim’s arm, swiftly kissing Hadrian on the cheek.

“I’ll be right back,” said Sabrina.

She headed to the door, where another group had arrived.

They stood in silence for a moment. Fero took a loud slurp of punch and Hadrian glared down at him. Fero looked back up at him with wide eyes, taking a second much more quiet sip.

“It’s a lovely party,” Ephraim said. “I’m excited for the wedding. I’m sure it will be... quite a show.”

Fero nodded, unsure if this was a compliment or something a little less pleasant. These events had been full of such statements, and Sabrina had told them that if in doubt, they should give as neutral a reaction as possible. He could see, out the corner of his eye, Hadrian’s free hand clenching into a fist behind his back.

“It will be lovely,” said Hadrian, his voice taking on the polished tone he used for sermons.

Sabrina returned, giving Hadrian an undecipherable look before guiding Ephraim away. Hadrian let out a deep breath.

“So… you work with that guy?” said Fero.

“When the church requires it of me,” said Hadrian.

“So,” said Fero slowly, “you’re both tools of Samothes.”

“I’m a tool for our Lord, but that guy is just a tool,” Hadrian muttered, taking a sip from his own cup of punch.

Fero spit out his own drink, shocked laughter and drink coming through his nose.

“Excuse me? Oh my god, Hadrian, did you say something mean about another person? Like on purpose? Are you feeling okay? Is there something in your punch that I can get some of?”

Hadrian smiled, but it was a grim one as he continued to stare forward. Fero followed his line of sight to see Sabrina laughing at something Ephraim had said. Her hand was on his forearm. Well.

“Oh,” Fero said. “Okay, I get it. You’re right, that guy’s a tool.”

Hadrian nodded, keeping his gaze on Sabrina. “He and Sabrina were betrothed from a young age, but she thought he was a little too... proud for her taste. Her meeting Hella was as much of a blessing to me as to her, or so Sabrina always likes to tell me.” He took another sip of punch. “The Prince, though, doesn’t like not getting what he wants. Always likes to tell me that it’s only divine intervention keeping us together.”

Fero took another sip from his cup. “And what do you think?”

Hadrian smirked. “It’s divine, alright.”

“Holy shit, dude. Did you make a sex joke? I know I always say that you have a holy stick up your holy butt, but now I can kind of see why Hella likes you.”

Hadrian made a show of going to punch Fero on the shoulder and Fero dodged out the way of his fist, grinning.

“Oh Sabrina,” said Ephraim loudly, “will you dance with me?”

Hadrian froze.

“You know,” said Fero, “I could turn into a cougar and take care of that for you.”

“Fero, no,” said Hadrian warningly, but this time he was smiling.

Across the room, Ephraim laughed at something Sabrina said, lightly touching her arm.

“Although I certainly appreciate both the offer and the mental image,” Hadrian added.

Fero patted the side of Hadrian’s leg. “Any time, buddy.”

----

Hella’s conversation with the group of Ordenans hadn’t gone as poorly as she’d thought it would. Granted, that had mostly been Sabrina’s influence -- she’d dropped in on their conversation from time to time, switching out various people in the group Hella had been speaking to before things could get too heated. Hella only had so many neutral topics of conversation at her disposal.

The party was beginning to disperse as she finally made her way back towards Lem and Fero. She was surprised to see Hadrian standing with them, until she noticed who Sabrina was with over the other side of the room. Hadrian looked tense.

“I’m surprised that guy’s still here,” said Hella, by way of greeting.

Hadrian huffed. “Apparently he got used to late night parties while he was up in Rosemerrow.”

“He’ll be back there soon enough,” said Hella.

Hadrian made an non-commital humming sound, still looking over at Sabrina and Ephriam. Hella rolled her eyes, moving to stand so that she was blocking his line of sight. Hadrian blinked, surprised, and Hella raised her eyebrows at him.

Fero slipped his hand into hers and she looked down at him. He looked about as tired as she felt.

“Does you being finished talking to the Ordenans mean we can go now?”

Hella laughed. “I think so, unless there’s someone else we’re supposed to talk to?”

“How about an old friend?” said a voice behind her. A familiar voice. An unexpected voice.

Hella turned to see Adaire, wearing an elaborately embroidered dress and a cheerful smile.

“Adaire!” said Hella, “what are you doing here?”

Adaire made a face. “Well that’s not very welcoming of you.”

“I’m just… surprised, that’s all.”

“I suppose you would be,” said Adaire, “given that you didn’t send me a wedding invitation.”

“I would have sent you an invitation if I knew where to send it,” said Hella. “You haven’t exactly kept in touch.”

Adaire held up her hands. “I’m not here to fight over who did or didn’t leave a forwarding address. I was in town and I heard about this big to-do going on, all sort of dignitaries and high-born types coming in from all over for a wedding, which seemed surprising enough, and then when I heard you were one of the people getting married… Well. I wanted to see it with my own eyes.”

“Well, here we are,” said Hella.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” said Adaire, looking curiously at Lem and Fero.

“Fero Feritas,” said Fero, letting go of Hella’s hand to shake Adaire’s, “and this handsome orc is Lem King. We’ll be the ones getting married to Hella after we get through another week of diplomatic nonsense.”

Lem gave a small, shy wave. “Hello.”

Adaire shook Fero’s hand, looking amused. “Adaire. I’m an old… friend of Hella’s.”

“Very old,” said Hella.

“Yes,” said Adaire, “we have a lot to catch up on I’m sure.”

“Oh,” began Hadrian, “I don’t know if Hella really has time for-”

“I’m sorry,” interrupted Adaire, “since when are you in charge of Hella’s social schedule?”

“He’s right, Adaire,” said Hella. “We still have so much to do… maybe after the wedding? Although I suppose you’ll have to be moving on by then. I remember how you don’t like to stay in one place for too long.”

“Surely you’ll have time to talk to me at your hen’s night?” said Adaire, smiling.

“Oh, I…” Hella hesitated. She could see where this conversation was headed. “I wasn’t going to really have one.”

Adaire laughed. “You? Not have one? Come on.”

Hella shrugged. “I don’t really know a lot of people in town. I was going to go have dinner with Ren and Sabrina somewhere, I think. I hadn’t organised anything.”

Telling Adaire that was a mistake and Hella knew it as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

Adaire grinned. “Well, I know quite a few people in town. I’ll organise something for you.”

“Oh, you don’t really-”

“No, no, I insist,” said Adaire. “Consider it my wedding gift to you. No strings attached.”

“That’d be a first,” said Hadrian.

Adaire ignored him, glancing over her shoulder at a group of Twinbrooke council members.

“Ah,” said Adaire, “it looks like my group is about to head off. I’ll send a messenger with the details for your party, all you’ll have to do is show up.”

“Adaire, I really don’t-”

Adaire kissed Hella on the cheek, quick and light. Hella felt the fading warmth from Adaire’s hand on her shoulder without even feeling the physical movement of it. She’d forgotten how fast Adaire could be.

“I’ll see you at the party,” said Adaire, grinning.

She nodded to Lem and Fero (and ignored Hadrian) and fell into step with a group leaving, melding into a conversation as though she had been part of it for hours.

“Old friend, huh?” said Fero, “Is she always like that?”

“Yes,” said Hadrian.

“Sometimes,” said Hella, still looking towards the door Adaire had gone through. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Fero put his hand in Hella’s again, tangling their fingers together. “Okay, now that that’s over with, can we go?”

Hella shook herself. “Yes. Hadrian, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Finally,” said Fero, reaching out for Lem’s hand and pulling them both towards the door.

Hella caught sight of Sabrina as she turned. “Oh, wait-”

“Nooo,” whined Fero. “We were almost out the door.”

“Two minutes,” said Hella, letting go of Fero’s hand to walk quickly to Sabrina.

She tapped on Sabrina’s shoulder. “Hey, we’re leaving.”

Sabrina blinked, glancing around. “Well, I suppose you may as well, things are wrapping up here.”

Hella paused. “So. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” said Sabrina, smiling.

“I’m sure it won’t matter that we’re leaving,” continued Hella pointedly, “because you’ll probably be leaving soon too.”

Sabrina gave her a strange look. “I… imagine so?”

Hella turned to look over at Hadrian, who was now standing by himself at the punchbowl, and back to Sabrina.

“Ah,” said Sabrina laughing a little.

Hella shrugged. “Goodnight.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” said Sabrina. She kissed Hella lightly on the cheek, lowering her voice to add, “I’m glad he has you looking out for him.”

As she turned away Hella made a ‘come here’ gesture to Hadrian and he approached, looking concerned.

“Hella-” began Hadrian.

“Night, Hadrian,” said Hella quickly, pushing him forward a little so that he stumbled between Sabrina and Ephriam.

“Ah, there you are,” she heard Sabrina say, “I was just telling Hella that it was about time we head home as well…”

“There, done,” said Hella, quickly taking Fero’s hand and pulling him and Lem along, “Let’s go before Ephraim realises I’m the reason his night with Sabrina’s about to be cut short.”

They took a carriage ride back to their small rented house. It felt unusual not to walk home, as they would have done in Velas, but Sabrina had insisted on them using it. Hella was grateful for her insistence now - her feet felt as though she’d already marched for miles, and Fero started falling asleep on her shoulder almost as soon as the carriage started to move.

She moved him so that he was lying across her and Lem’s laps. He curled his body towards them, pressing his face into Lem’s stomach. Lem smiled down at him, running his hand through Fero’s hair. Hella leant her head on Lem’s shoulder and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. If this was what taking a carriage ride would always be always like, Hella could get used to this.

They woke Fero up as they arrived, and Lem carried him inside. Hella could tell that he was more awake than he seemed, playing it up his tiredness a little as he snuggled himself in Lem’s arms. She poked him in the side playfully and his head shot up to look at her.

“Oh good,” said Hella grinning, “you’re awake.”

Lem looked down at Fero. “Do you want me to put you down?”

Fero’s hands tightened their grip on Lem’s shirt. “No, it’s fine.”

Lem looked as though he was trying not to laugh. “Alright.”

Lem put Fero down on the bed as the entered, moving to the end of the bed to get undressed.

“I wish I had more energy right now,” said Fero.

Hella looked over at him. He was lying sprawled on the bed, shirt unbuttoned and half-off his shoulders, looking at her and Lem wistfully.

“More energy for what?” said Lem, folding his shirt and laying it carefully over the back of a chair.

“Oh, you know,” said Fero, “just… things.”

“How romantic,” said Lem dryly.

“I could be,” said Fero, “if I weren’t the most tired halfling in Hieron right now.”

“That’s a real shame,” said Hella, stripping off her pants, not bothering to turn them right side out.

“It really is!” said Fero, gesturing widely before letting his arms flop down on the bed.

He rolled over onto his stomach, pillowing his head in his arms, eyes sliding closed. “At least all the forced socialising is done.”

“For you, maybe,” said Hella. “I’ll still have to get through whatever Adaire plans.”

“Surely if you’re old friends she’ll organise something you’ll like,” said Lem.

Hella sighed. “Maybe. We never exactly saw eye to eye even when we were together.”

“Well that’s just because you’re so tall,” said Fero, sounding half-asleep.

Hella laughed.

“I’m sure Sabrina can organise something else if you’d really rather not go,” said Lem.

Hella sighed again. “No, it’s fine. I mean, you guys are having one of your own, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but I have a feeling Throndir’s organised something much more... low-key than your’s sounds,” said Lem.

Hella pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. “I’m just whining. I’ll be fine.”

Hella left her own clothes in a pile next to her sword, laying down next to Fero.

He blinked up at her. “Hey.”

Hella smiled. “Hi. We’re going to sleep now. Move over.”

“I’m already asleep,” said Fero, sliding over so he was more in the middle of the bed.

He clumsily slung her arm across her side and she moved her arm around him, pulling him in closer. Fero sighed, wriggling to find a more comfortable position. His breath tickled her and she pressed her lips together, suppressing a laugh.

The bed sank a little as Lem climbed in beside Fero, pulling the blanket over the three of them. He kissed the top of Hella’s head, then Fero’s, before settling in, laying his arm across her next to Fero’s. Hella laid her arm on top of theirs, feeling their warmth join together with hers, slipping quickly into sleep.

----

Fero bounced his knee up and down. He’d been trying not to fidget, but they’d been here for what felt like hours -- how long were vows supposed to take anyway? -- with no end to the wedding in sight.

His uncle finished his eons-long sentence and took and breath to start another, probably even longer, sentence. Fero stifled a groan and his father gave him a stern look.

Fero froze. Once his father’s attention was back on the ceremony, Fero started jiggling his leg again.

“Will you stop that?” whispered Arva.

“This is taking forever,” Fero whispered back.

“Well, you know how long-winded Uncle Lenny is,” said Arva, “or maybe you don’t, since you practically live in the woods these days.”

Fero made a face. That was fair. He hadn’t been going far, just far enough that the trees and forest creatures outnumbered the signs of halfling life. So maybe he’d been spending a little more time there than in Rosemerrow lately. It was warm enough on summer nights to sleep out-of-doors, and there was plenty of food in the forest, if you knew where to look for it.

“I guess I thought maybe he’d shut up and let someone else talk for a change,” said Fero. “She’s going to die of old age before he even gets through describing his childhood years or whatever he’s been rambling on about.”

“Well when it’s your wedding, you have have the vows as short as you want,” said Arva, “but for now, be quiet.”

Fero mimed tying his lips together. Arva pressed her lips together, the corners of her eyes crinkling in the way that meant she was trying to be too grown up to laugh at what he was doing.

Standing on the stage in front of them, Uncle Lenny began a new verbal essay on how his future wife Vanezda felt like home, creating a truly horrendous metaphor in which each of her traits were a room of a house.

When it’s my wedding, thought Fero, Yeah, right.

More and more the forest, with its tall, solid trees and flowing rivers and birds calling to one another, felt like home. It was hard to imagine the kind of person who’d be able to compete with that.

----

Most of the larger details -- the venue, the floorplan, the guestlist -- were out of their control. Lem trusted Sabrina to keep their best interests at heart with such things. That meant that most of the planning that would actually involve them would be with the small details, where they could have some freedom of choice without fear of causing a diplomatic incident. Details like the colour scheme of the decorations.

It was a bit like pattern magic. Pattern magic involving colour wasn’t something Lem was very familiar with, but he had more of a working knowledge base than Hella or Fero, both of whom looked as though they were ready to make a break for the door at any moment. Fero wriggled in his seat so hard the chair tipped from one side to the other, and Hadrian gave him a stern look.

Lem put his hand on the chair, stopping Fero’s movement. Fero tipped his head back, so that the top of it was brushing Lem’s fingers, and let out a long sigh.

Hella, to her credit, was at least paying attention to the discussion. She was very particular about not having a lot of reds in the wedding scheme. Fero had joked earlier that she was worried about her hair clashing if anything was dyed wrong, but Hella stood steadfast in her decision.

“It’s not-. I’m not vain about my looks, it’s just- Ordenan weddings... if this wedding was taking place in Ordena it would be decked out in red, because that’s the color of my house, of my bloodline.”

“Then why-” began Sabrina.

“Because I’m not in Ordena,” said Hella, “I don’t have to follow those rules anymore.”

“But your ribbon can be red, correct?” said Sabrina, “For the hand-binding?”

Hella’s face softened, looking down at the tangle of silken ribbons. “Yes.”

“Do the two of you have any house colours that need to be represented?” said Sabrina.

Fero shrugged, twining a green ribbon around his fingers. “Nah, I just like this one.”

“Then we’ll use that one,” said Sabrina, businesslike, “Lem?”

Lem considered the pile of ribbons in front of them. If he’d looked it up, there probably was a house colour that he could have gone with, recorded in some ancient tome. He could have also gone with a grey colour, the colour of Archivist robes. He hesitated, his hand hovering over the pile for a moment before pulling out a blue ribbon, the colour of a bright summer sky.

“This one completes the pattern nicely,” said Lem.

----

Hadrian and Sabrina’s wedding was a much more formal affair than Hella was used to, all stark white cloth, delicate gold embroidery, and a lot of grand speeches that seemed to have more to do with the glory of Samothes than two people getting married. It would have been dry and dull were it not for Hadrian and Sabrina’s beaming smiles. For the moment they saw each other at alter, the crest of Samothes shining golden behind them in the afternoon sun, Hella didn’t think she’d seen them stop smiling even once.

Hella wasn’t really one for parties, hovering on the edges of the gathered groups. Ordinarily, she probably would have made her excuses and slipped out, but it felt important to be there, to watch Hadrian and Sabrina as they twirled around the floor for their first dance. Even from her position in the corner she could hear Sabrina’s bright, delighted laugh over the musicians as Hadrian picked her up, spinning them both around.

Sabrina found her after, where Hella hiding from the festivities on the balcony, throwing her arms around Hella’s shoulders and pressing a quick kiss to the back of Hella’s neck.

“Hadrian’s been wondering where you are,” said Sabrina, moving to lean on the railing next to Hella.

“I doubt it,” said Hella. “I think he has other things on his mind today.”

“Even so,” said Sabrina, “I think he’s saving a dance for you.”

Hella made a face and Sabrina laughed, bumping their shoulders together.

“Come on,” said Sabrina, “you’re in the wedding party, you’re the one who helped organise all this, that means that you have to undergo the same trials that we do.”

“The two of you seemed to be enjoying yourselves well enough earlier,” said Hella.

Sabrina flushed pink. “Ah, well. It can’t all be state ceremony. I suppose they have to let us have something or no one in the church would ever go through with a wedding.”

“I don’t know that I ever would, even with the dancing” said Hella, looking out across the city, “I… I don’t know that it’s in me to want to be tied to someone the way the two of you are.”

After all, she’d seen what being apart from Sabrina did to Hadrian on long campaigns, his expression growing tighter and more grave the further away they moved from Velas, the longer it took between letters from Sabrina. It was as though the distance between them physically pained him, adding invisible weight to his shoulders in a way that surely made it harder to do battle. Her armor was heavy enough as it was.

Sabrina covered Hella’s hand with her own.

“It’s less like than a cage than you imagine. It’s more like…” Sabrina paused, thinking, “it’s like the world feels smaller somehow, or simpler, until it’s just the two of us.”

Sabrina’s face was blissful, a distant gleam in her eyes as she looked out across Velas. She seemed happy enough, as did Hadrian, but the idea of surrendering to another person, of promising them ownership of your heart like that… To say nothing of having guardianship over someone else’s heart. That was too fragile, too gentle of a thing to withstand the life she led.

“Sounds cramped,” said Hella.

Sabrina laughed. “I suppose it does sound that way. But… it’s nice.”

“If you say so,” said Hella. She paused. “You both seem very happy.”

Sabrina smiled up at her. “We are.”

Inside, the band changed to something with a faster tempo. Sabrina took Hella hand, pulling her back towards the sound.

“One dance,” said Sabrina.

“Fine,” said Hella.

“With each of us,” said Sabrina, grinning.

Hella made a complaining noise, but it was hard not to grin back at Sabrina, who was almost glowing with joy.

“Fine,” said Hella, “but only because I trapped myself into this when I was organising things.”

“Well,” said Sabrina, “if there is ever a time that our positions are reversed, I promise I will similarly trap myself.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Hella.

----

The sun was setting as they left the meeting house, leaning on each other. Fero pressed a tired kiss to the back of Hella’s hand and she smiled down at him.

“I feel like we got a lot done today,” said Lem.

“Yeah,” yawned Fero, “Hey, maybe we’ll be so speedy at this we’ll only have to do one more planning day!”

Hella chuckled.

“Maybe,” said Lem, “Although what Sabrina was saying about the floorplans was fascinating, I wonder if-”

He broke off, looking ahead of them. Hella followed his gaze to see Adaire approaching them. Adaire waved cheerfully, brandishing a piece of coloured parchment.

“Oh good, I’m glad I caught you,” said Adaire, “I’ve got everything for your party all worked out, and I heard you were going to be down here so I thought I should drop it off in person. I know how things can get lost in the post.”

She pushed the parchment into Hella’s hands, and Hella skimmed her eyes over it.

“That’s… quite the night,” said Lem, reading it over her shoulder.

“Oh that’s nothing,” said Adaire, “in our younger days, this would have been our version of a quiet night in, right Hella?”

“Hmm,” said Hella, still looking at the parchment.

“Is there anyone I should know to invite?” said Adaire, looking at Lem and Fero, “Any family in town who might like to come?”

“They, um, they’re in the middle of a pattern at the moment,” said Lem, “they weren’t able to break away.”

Fero shrugged. “My family doesn’t like leaving Rosemerrow.”

“Oh, well, that’s a shame they’ll miss the wedding,” said Adaire, keeping her voice light. She looked at Hella. “Any Ordenans I should know to invite?”

“Well, Ren, of course,” said Hella.

“Of course,” said Adaire, “but I meant more like from your family.”

Adaire was fishing for information and they both knew it. By now Hella knew Adaire would have already asked around and would have known Hella’s family wasn’t here, but it looked like people had kept thankfully silent on the reasons behind it.

“They.... my family chose not to attend,” said Hella, “so, no, there isn’t anyone else from Ordena you’d need to invite.”

“Ah,” said Adaire, recovering quickly, “Just Ren then.”

“Yes,” said Hella tersely.

“Well, it was lovely seeing you again,” said Lem, “but I think that’s our carriage over there, and it would be rude to keep the driver waiting.”

Lem hustled Hella and Fero towards the carriage, moving so that he blocked her view of Adaire.

“I’ll come see you tomorrow!” called Adaire, as their carriage began to move.

Hella didn’t waste time wondering how Adaire would find out where they were staying. She had no doubt Adaire already knew.

“Tomorrow?” said Fero.

“For the party,” said Hella, “She must have found out when you were having yours.”

“I take it she wasn’t expecting a lot of guest crossover,” said Lem.

“I suppose not even Adaire could find out everything in a day,” said Hella, looking out the window.

There was silence for a moment, hanging heavy in the air. Fero slipped his hand into her’s and she looked down at him.

“Are you okay?”

“Sure,” said Hella, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Lem and Fero exchanged a look. Most of the time when they did that, she thought it was sweet. Right now, at this moment, she did not.

“What?”

“I don’t want you to be upset --” began Lem.

“Well it’s too late for that,” said Hella, sitting back and crossing her arms.

Fero made a face. “Hey, we’re not the ones who brought up family garbage --”

“My family is not garbage,” snapped Hella.

“Well, they’re sure as hell not here,” Fero snapped back.

“Neither is yours!”

“Yeah, well,” some of the fire left Fero and he looked away, “I wasn’t expecting them to be.”

Another silence fell over the carriage.

“Look,” Lem tried again, “Just because they’re not coming doesn’t mean they don’t care.”

Hella bit her lip, looking down at the gently rocking floor of the carriage. She had met her family’s anger over their impending marriage with anger of her own. Fero had reacted to his parents declined invitation with a quiet bitterness. Lem’s family had put their pattern magic studies before Lem in importance, apologising for missing the wedding the way you would apologise for being late for dinner.

Hella reached out and took Lem’s hand, squeezing it. Fero leaned over Hella, putting his hand on top of their’s hesitantly.

“I didn’t mean it,” said Fero.

Hella sighed. “Yes, you did.”

“Okay, I did,” said Fero, “but not like that. If they’re too stupid to get over the fact that you’re marrying a halfling and an orc then I don’t care that they’re not here. I don’t want them glowering over at us from the front row while I’m confessing my undying love to you both.”

“They wouldn’t be glowering.”

“They absolutely would,” said Fero. “They’d have on their official Ordenan glowers for the occasion and everything.”

Despite herself, Hella smiled. “There’s no such thing an official Ordenan glower.”

“There sort of is,” said Lem, “You used to do it quite a bit.”

“Did I?”

Lem hummed. “Not so much any more though.”

“Well,” said Hella, “I suppose I have less to glower about these days.”

“Except when I say dumb stuff, right?” said Fero. His grin looked a little too brittle for Hella’s liking.

She raised their tangled hands to kiss the back of his hand. Fero stilled, looking up at her with wide eyes.

“Not even then.”

She put one arm around Fero’s shoulders, pulling him close to her and she leant back against Lem, feeling the rocking of the carriage move them in time with one another. She could see the storefronts and apartments outside the window change to trees and sprawling houses as they left the inner city.

Lem kissed the top of her head.

“As long as the two of you are there, I have all the family I need in attendance,” said Lem.

----

Lem followed the pattern of the music as instructed. It wasn’t supposed to be pattern magic per say, more like the music was part of the Assurance of Commitment.

More and more though, he felt that he could feel patterns there, patterns that weren’t recorded in any of the tomes he’d looked in, or referenced in any stories passed down by the Senior Archivists. New patterns.

The world was full of new patterns, of course, but being an Archivist was all about ignoring those new patterns in favour of teasing out the old ones.

And so, Lem played the song as he had been instructed to play it, trying to ignore the part of his mind that whispered that if he tweaked the notes just so they’d fit into the melody that had been circling his mind all week.

He’d been messing around with it, just a little bit, after lights out in the dormitories. It was something to do with light, he was pretty sure. When he thought  of the rhythm of it, the song glowed in his mind.

Still. Perhaps best not to practise that in the middle of the ceremony, even if playing the song this way felt wrong.

The couple was going through their dance steps, forward and back, stepping to one side, then the other. From his position in the corner of the room, Lem could catch the occasional sight of their smiling, delighted faces.

Lem could picture his own Assurance, the parts of his family’s pattern that be the easiest to take and mix with another to make the dance steps, the colours he would put forth as options for clothing and decoration, the arrangement of objects his family would put forth to mark the start of the continuation of the family pattern.

He couldn’t really picture what the orc standing beside him would look like though. When he tried, the only part he could make solid in his mind was a quick smile and strong, broad shoulders.

----

The first thing Fero saw when he blinked awake was a tangle of red and black hair. The sunlight coming in through the crack in the curtains made Hella’s hair seem to glow like fire, and made Lem’s hair seem darker somehow, as though he was looking at fire streaking the night sky.

“Hey,” said Hella, her voice soft with sleep.

Fero stretched out, relaxing back against Lem. Lem kissed the top of Fero’s head, and Fero smiled up at them, blinking slowly. They both smiled back.

“Morning,” said Fero.

Lem hummed, curling his body closer to Fero’s. “Morning.”

“More parties tonight,” said Hella, “When’s Throndir coming by?”

Fero paused, his half-asleep mind taking a moment to sort out the memory. “Not until way later. What about your thing with Adaire?”

“The same time, I think,” said Hella.

“A free day for once,” said Lem, sounding pleased, “We could-”

Hella leant forward, kissing Lem slowly.

“...we could explore the city,” said Lem, sounding dazed.

Hella hummed, leaning forward again, kissing Lem deeper this time. Fero wriggled to lay on his front, propping his chin in his hand to watch them. He felt himself go distant as he looked at them, a fuzzy, pleased feeling settling over his bones. He felt a little outside his body, as though he was able to look at the three of them smiling, lazy and content, at each other.

“Um,” said Lem, “you know, see some of the historical sights, sample local cuisine-”

Hella cupped Lem’s cheek, drawing him in for another kiss. Her fingers tangled themselves in Lem’s hair.

“I- um, unless you had another idea?” said Lem, a little breathless.

Hella shrugged. “Not really.”

“I think we should go out and see the city,” said Fero.

“You… you do?” said Lem.

“Sure,” said Fero, craning his body upwards to kiss Lem, “I just think we should go later. There was talk the other night of me not being romantic, and I’d like to use some of our free time today to prove that wrong.”

He kissed Lem slowly and deeply, like Hella had done. Lem sighed into the kiss. Hella ran her hand along Fero’s back and he leant into her touch. It was warm, under the covers, and Fero wanted to stay there for as long as possible.

“I think that, um, that sounds fair,” said Lem.

Fero grinned. “Excellent.”

----

Here is how Fero fell in love with Lem King:

He’d been in the forest for a while, mostly as different animals instead of being a halfling. Being a halfling was hard and annoying, and it was so much easier to just be a squirrel. He needed less food for one thing, and he could sleep curled up in a tree, and he didn’t have to deal with anyone else or what they thought of him.

A noise startled him -- the sound of someone talking, and he crept down the tree trunk a little way to see what it was.

It was Lem, on his first solo trip ever out of the New Archives, but of course Fero didn’t know that at the time. When he first saw Lem what he saw was a young orc, crouching down at the base of a tree and talking in a very quiet, soothing voice, trying to get a chickadee to take part of his sandwich from his hand.

Fero watched him for a long time. Lem’s voice stayed in that same soothing, melodic tone as Lem spoke nonsense fragments to the bird about the weather, and music, and the sandwich. Lem didn’t make any sudden moves, he didn’t even really move at all, just held the sandwich out and waited for the bird to trust him enough to move forwards.

Eventually, the bird hopped forward, snatching the crust from Lem’s hand and hopping quickly backwards. The bird pecked at the crust a few times, whistling a few notes to Lem. Lem whistled, trying to copy the sound, and the two went back and forth until Lem had the pitch right. Of course, Lem couldn’t speak bird so he had no idea what he was saying, but he was trying.

Fero decided that getting a chance to talk to this orc was worth the trouble of changing back into a halfling.

“She’s saying thank you,” said Fero.

Lem dropped the rest of his sandwich, startled, and looked up to where Fero was lying along a branch above him.

“I, um, I didn’t realise anyone else was here,” said Lem.

He seemed embarrassed, a blush spreading quickly over his cheeks. It was, Fero decided, a cute look for him. Fero grinned down at Lem.

“Well I was a squirrel until like a minute ago, people don’t tend to notice little animals.”

“Oh,” said Lem, blinking up at him, “well that seems rude.”

“Right?” said Fero.

From its position, the bird sang out its small melody again.

Lem looked over at the bird, then back up to Fero. “What did you say the bird was saying again?”

“She’s saying thank you,” said Fero, “for the bread.”

Lem was quiet for a moment. “How do I say ‘you’re welcome’ in bird?”

Fero felt something warm unfurl in his chest. “I’ll show you.”

----

There was a knock at the door, making the three of them pause. Fero looked up from between Lem’s legs. Lem let out a very quiet whine as Fero stopped his movements, and then immediately slapped a hand over his mouth. He hoped that whoever was outside the door hadn’t heard that.

“Um, are you guys there? It’s Throndir. I knocked at the front door but no one answered and Kodiak said you were up here, so, um, are you?”

“Oh my god,” said Lem quietly, covering his face with his hands.

“Yes, we’re here,” said Hella, laughing a little, “You might need to give us a minute?”

“Right,” said Throndir. He cleared his throat. “I’ll just go… wait downstairs? I’m going downstairs.”

“Why is he here so early?” said Lem.

He kept his hands over his face, feeling himself blush.

“He’s not here that early,” said Hella, sounding amused.

Lem uncovered his eyes. Now that he wasn’t being so… distracted… he could see the late afternoon sun starting to set.

“Oh,” said Lem frowning, “we never got to the city.”

Hella and Fero laughed.

“You planned this,” said Lem, glaring down at Fero.

Fero shrugged, grinning. “Cities are all the same. Why go out and see the same thing when I could stay in and see something better?”

“You see us every- oh,” said Lem, annoyance turning into a gasp as Fero’s hand crept back up the inside of his thigh.

“As much as I agree, you do have Throndir waiting for you downstairs right now,” said Hella.

“He can wait,” said Fero.

“He might but Adaire won’t,” said Hella, “she’ll be here soon and I’d like for us all to be wearing clothes when she bursts in here.”

“Ugh, fine,” said Fero.

Lem tried not to be too disappointed as Fero moved away.

“Try not to lose my place,” said Fero, pressing a quick kissing to Lem’s knee as he slipped off the bed, “We can pick this up later.”

“I hope so,” huffed Lem.

Hella laughed. She rolled her body towards Lem, pressing against him quickly and kissing him before rolling away to get up. She held out her hand to Lem.

“Come on,” said Hella, “I meant it about Adaire bursting in.”

“Oh,” said Lem, taking her hand and following Hella’s lead.

They dressed quickly, finding their clothes from where they were scattered around the room and in their packs. Fero helped Hella to finish her braid, standing on top of the table and on tiptoes to secure it.

“Where are you boys going tonight?”

“Food places, I think,” said Lem, “I’m not sure though, Throndir wanted it to be a surprise.”

Hella hummed. “Well, keep an eye on Hadrian for me. He thinks he can hold his ale far better than he actually can.”

There was another knock at the door and it opened.

“Oh good,” said Adaire, “you’re ready!”

Thorondir was behind Adaire, the tips of his ears tinged red, facing the stairs.

“Thorondir was just telling me that he knocked and then actually waited for you to answer.”

Thorondir nodded, a little hesitantly, still facing towards the stairs.

“Yeah,” Fero said, “Auniq is all about privacy and getting permission before opening doors, so weird of them, right?”

Adaire grinned. “Good thing they don’t need a mapmaker out that way.”

Thorondir turned to face them in the doorway. “Boys, we’re doing a sort of pub crawl tonight, I hope that’s alright? I asked around about places that would be fun.”

Fero whooped, wobbling a little on the table. Hella reached out and steadied him, looking amused.

“That’s my man, Thorondir,” said Fero, grinning, “The Velasian council has been supplying us with so much wine and punch, which is fine most of the time, but I need some bad ale in my body. And like, chicken wings. I don’t need to eat, but man can I put them down.”

Thorondir nodded, smiling. “Lem, I also requested town historians and people who’ve grown up here their whole lives to wait on us so that you can ask them questions.”

Lem perked up. “I can bring my journal?”

Throndir shrugged. “Sure, I mean, that’s why I asked them to be there.”

Lem bounced on his toes, grinning. He rummaged around in his bag for a moment, making sure to put spare inks and quills in his pockets.

Thorondir laughed. “C’mon, we’ve gotta meet Hadrian before the sun goes down.”

They said goodbye to Hella, and made their way across town. It was a warm night, and people were out despite the snow on the ground. A good night for a celebration.

Hadrian was already waiting for them at a table when they arrived. He was awkwardly drinking water and making small talk with the waiter as they approached.

“So…” Hadrian was saying, “it’s been quite cold lately?”

The waiter nodded, giving them a relieved look as they sat down. Thorondir and Fero laughed. They ordered a lot of drinks, and once word got around that they were celebrating soon-to-be-grooms, they received many from other patrons in the bar.

True to Throndir’s word, Lem had an excellent conversation with their waiter about growing up in between two rivers, writing it down in his notebook in between rounds. He hoped at least some of it would be legible tomorrow.

Thorondir turned to Fero. “I don’t know if you’re the one I’m supposed to be asking, but Sabrina’s been busy, and I need to know if I can bring a date to the wedding.”

“Well, it is my wedding,” said Fero, smirking up at Lem for a moment before turning back to Throndir, “So yeah, buddy. Whatever you want. Are they from Auniq? Velas? Rosemerrow? What’s up?”

“You know those urban legends, like One Two, Red Jack’s Coming For You?”

Fero shook his head.

“Oh, we tell the church kids that to get them to clean up and make sure they take their naps.” Hadrian explained, turning to Fero. “It’s an urban legend.”

“He is not,” said Throndir. “He’s like ten feet tall and red and has horns and he’s my date to the wedding.”

Hadrian paused, staring at Throndir from across the table before reaching forward to remove the drink in front of Thorondir.

Fero put both of his arms up and made a flexing motion, raising one eyebrow as if to say “Strong?” Thorondir nodded and Fero laughed.

“Nice going, buddy,” sad Fero, grinning, “Is he coming tonight?”

“I told him he could, but…” Thorondir shrugged. “He doesn’t like coming into town much.”

Lem tilted his head. “Why not?”

Thorondir stared at Lem for a second. “Because he’s a... tall red man with horns. People tend to have a kind of visceral reaction to that.”

Fero reached out to clumsily pat Lem’s arm. “It’s fine, Thorondir. Lem has no concept of what people do or don’t like.”

Lem blushed, feeling equally embarrassed and annoyed. “Fero-”

“That’s why I like him,” Fero said, kissing Lem’s elbow. “It means that nothing he’s saying is like, what he thinks he should say.”

“Oh,” said Lem, feeling something warm and staticky in his chest.

“And also,” continued Fero, “he’s very big, which is good in all kinds of situations.”

The warm, staticky feeling was replaced immediately by embarrassment. Lem covered his face with his hands, trying to hide his blush. Hadrian reached out and took Fero’s cup away too.

Thorondir nodded. “Being carried home when you’re too drunk to walk is pretty amazing.”

“It absolutely is,” said Fero enthusiastically, “Lem, make a note to do that later when we’re going home.”

“You’re going to carry me?” said Lem, more amused than embarrassed now.

“I mean, I could, maybe if I was a horse or something,” said Fero, “but I meant the other thing.”

“The other thing where I carry you?”

“Yeah,” said Fero, leaning against Lem, “that’s the one I like.”

Lem ran his hand through Fero’s hair and Fero tilted his head up to look at him.

“That’s the one I like, too,” said Lem.

----

Here is how Lem fell in love with Fero;

They lay together in the darkness, the world around them silent except for their ragged panting. Lem could feel Fero’s breath against his side, warm and wet, the opposite of the New Archives air. Fero rested his forehead against Lem for a moment before drawing back to look up at him in the low candlelight, and even though it had only been there for a moment, Lem missed the warmth of it.

“I guess I should probably go,” said Fero, still sounding a little out of breath.

“Already?” said Lem, “I mean, you can stay for a bit, if you want.”

“I-” Fero took a breath. “I should go now while the guards are changing shifts, it’s easier to get out then. Besides,” he grinned at Lem, “this bed’s pretty small.”

“You’re pretty small,” said Lem.

Fero twisted from where he’d turned to get up. The corner of Lem’s grey-brown bedsheets partially covered Fero and, in the low light, he reminded Lem of a pre-Erasure painting he’d seen once. Moments like this, when they were together in the quiet, stuck to Lem, floating to the surface of his thoughts during the day. It was a distraction from his studies, but Lem couldn’t quite bring himself to mind it.

“What did you just say to me?” said Fero, offended.

Lem tried quickly to remember anything he’d learned about halfling culture with regards to their height. It was hard, sometimes, to know if something he said had annoyed Fero for cultural reasons (which were, according to his teachers, something that was only to be expected when encountering other cultures and not something one should feel particularly bad about), or for reasons known only to Fero (for which his teachers could provide no instruction).

“I, um, I didn’t mean any offense,” said Lem, “I just meant that, you know, you’re very small, compared to me, which is fine, and so it’s fine if you want to sleep here, because you won’t take up very much room at all.”

He put both hands on Fero’s waist, to emphasise his point, and then immediately regretted his choice of actions. His hands looked almost impossibly large on Fero’s small frame like that. Despite the cold air of the room, Lem’s face felt hot.

Before he could move his hands away, Fero placed his hands on top of Lem’s.

“You won’t get in trouble for me being here?” said Fero carefully.

“Nah,” said Lem, in what he hoped was a cavalier tone.

“And you’re really okay with me sleeping here?” said Fero, “I’ve been told I can be annoying to sleep with.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive,” said Lem.

“Like, I can get really clingy, imagine an octopus but me-sized.”

“But not an actual octopus, right?”

“No,” said Fero, “or, at least, I don’t think so.”

Lem thought of Fero, of them together, warm like they were now but all throughout the night, with Fero curled against his side. His hands tightened against Fero’s waist almost involuntarily. Lem’s throat felt tight, and he coughed.

“Then that’s fine,” said Lem, “I mean, only if you want to, obviously, if you have somewhere else you’d rather be I don’t want to keep you.”

“I don’t,” said Fero.

They both stared at each other for a moment. Fero tapped his fingers along Lem’s.

“Oh, sorry-” said Lem, feeling himself blush again.

“It’s fine,” said Fero, “I’ll, um, I guess I’ll just lie back down?”

Fero settled gingerly back down, his body tense as though he was straining not to touch Lem.

“You can, um.” Lem bit his lip, moving his arm around Fero so that Fero could move more towards him.

“I didn’t want to, uh, make you uncomfortable,” said Fero.

“You’re not,” said Lem quickly, “Unless- am I making you uncomfortable?”

Fero shook his head, carefully settling against Lem’s side. Lem could feel Fero’s speedy heartbeat.

Fero wriggled a little, then hesitantly put his arm over Lem’s stomach. “Is this okay?”

Fero’s arm was a light, warm weight, trailing across Lem’s front to join with the warmth against his side.

“It’s fine,” Lem managed.

“Okay,” said Fero, his eyes already starting to slide closed, “Okay, good.”

Lem whistled a few notes, blowing out the candles. He could feel Fero slip into sleep, his body stilling and his breaths becoming deep and even. In the darkness, he could just make Fero out, his fluffy hair sticking up at awkward angles, his pink lips partially open, blowing puffs of warm air onto Lem’s skin.

Fero mumbled something in his sleep and Lem curled his arm tighter around him. Fero rubbed his face clumsily against Lem’s shirt, mumbling again before returning to stillness. Lem smiled to himself.

Tomorrow he would have to try to find a proper way -- there must be some by-law or footnote hidden away somewhere that would allow Fero to stay -- then the next time they were together they could just settle down afterwards, without Fero having to scamper off into the night. Then they could wake up together too, and Lem could wake up with Fero curled around him, instead of Lem waking up alone in a bed that felt just a little bit too cold. They’d both wake up warm, and together.

That would be nice, thought Lem, as he drifted into sleep, I think I’d like that.

----

Hella’s party was loud, bright, and reminded her why she preferred standing guard outside party halls instead of being inside as a guest. Adaire had seemingly invited every feminine person in the corner of Hieron to the hall that she’d rented out for the event. Hella could count, on one hand, the people she knew by face and name. Her skin itched in a way that she usually felt when entering a possibly hostile new town.

But, this was a diplomatic event. Hella knew that Fero had been joking two months ago, but Hella had told herself that if she was good tonight, maybe Lem could get that library funded after all. She didn’t know much about books, but she could imagine Lem’s pleased smile as he looked around such a room easily enough.

She picked a corner of the bar, and told the bartender to make sure that she had a drink at all times. Adaire, however, had gotten to the bartender first. Every drink that made it to Hella’s hand was a bright color with fresh fruit and sugar on the rim. Hella almost didn’t want to drink it on principle.

Ren came up to her after about a half hour of Hella glowering at her beverage. They ordered one for themself, looking at it disdainfully when they saw that theirs was also bright with fresh fruit.

Ren gave Hella a look, then shrugged. “Free alcohol is free alcohol.”

They held the glass up to Hella in a toast before downing the whole thing in a minute and eating the alcohol soaked fruit last. Putting the glass back on the counter, Hella noticed that Ren’s cheeks were immediately a deeper shade of red, and she laughed for the first time since she’d arrived.

“That’s my favorite flavor,” Hella toasted to Ren. “Free.”

Sabrina joined the two of them later, her cheeks flushed almost as pink as their drinks.

“Hella, Ren! You’ve met Astrid of course?”

Hella nodded. “From the Velas council?”

“That’s me,” said Astrid, smiling widely.

“Astrid is working with Lem and Fantasmo to get that document translated,” said Sabrina.

Hella nodded.

Another woman joined them, kissing Astrid on the top of her forehead, before ordering herself a drink from the bar. Astrid smiled, her posture immediately relaxing, her hand lingering on the woman’s shoulder.

“Hella, Ren, Sabrina, this is my girlfriend, Madeleine,” said Astrid.

Madeleine nodded to the party, picking a piece of fruit out of her own bright blue drink. “You’re marrying the orc and the halfling, right?”

Hella nodded, bracing herself.

Madeleine nodded. “You kids are cute. I hope you’re happy. Astrid and I went off-registry, I hope that’s okay.”

Sabrina frowned, looking as though she was gearing up to a speech about protocols. Hella would put up with a large rowdy party full of strangers on the possibility of getting Lem a library, but she would not listen to any more speeches on diplomacy tonight.

Hella leaned in close. “What’d you get us?”

Madeleine laughed, a loud cackle in the already loud room. “That would spoil the surprise, but here’s a hint: I had to skip a step to avoid causing a diplomatic scandal, so look for the unsigned gift.”

Hella laughed. She felt someone tap at her shoulder and turned to see Adaire.

“Hella!” said Adaire brightly, “come dance with me!”

“Oh,” said Hella, “I don’t really feel like-”

“Come on, Hella,” said Adaire, “this is supposed to be a night of celebration.”

“I was celebrating just fine at the bar.”

Adaire rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. Come on, you can’t spare one dance, for old time’s sake?”

“I don’t think we ever went dancing,” said Hella, “and I really don’t feel like it right now.”

“I organised this whole thing and you can’t even bring yourself to dance with me once?”

“I never asked you to organise all this,” Hella said, through gritted teeth, “isn’t it enough that I’m here? You’re just using it as a chance to make connections anyway, why don't you ask one of them to dance?”

“If that’s how you feel, then I will,” said Adaire, turning back towards the crowd of dancers.

The group at the bar was quiet for a moment. Hella knocked back the last of her drink, putting it back down on the bar with slightly more force than necessary.

“I’m going outside to get some air,” said Hella.

She’d gotten a few paces away from the door when she heard it open and close behind her, the noise of the party spilling out into the warm night air. It only took a few paces for the person to catch up to her.

“Do you want some company?” asked Ren.

Hella let out a long breath. “Sure.”

They walked together for a while, the noise of the party fading.

“So,” said Ren hesitantly, “How far out is this air you’re getting?”

Hella nodded ahead. “To the river.”

They’d passed it on their way into town, a group of willow trees bent low over the water. The world under the branches would be still and quiet, the opposite of the place they’d just come from.

Hella pushed through the leaves and sat down on the rocky edge of the river, her legs dangling over the water. She picked up a small stone, throwing into the water below. It skimmed a few times, disappearing as it skipped beyond the leaves.

Ren sat down beside her, kicking their feet. The movement reminded Hella of Fero, and she sighed.

“So,” said Ren, “why the need for air?”

“All the attention is making me a little…” Hella let out a long breath. “It’s been strange, being congratulated so much for something that felt so easy.”

“The Hella Varal I know would be delighted to be in a town that’s celebrating her achievements.”

Hella didn’t look up. “Maybe this kind of celebration doesn’t fit.”

“So let’s find one that does! We’ll ditch this party and go pick us up a random stranger at the Badger!” Ren said, lightly slapping Hella’s shoulder.

Hella shook her head, and threw another rock into the river. Instead of skimming along the surface, it sank, the ripples disturbing the reflection of the twin moons.

Ren sighed, “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

Ren nudged Hella’s shoulder with their own. “I’m your friend, Hella. I sat next to you while you stoically drank comically large and very pink drinks, and that seemed odd enough, but now I’m worried.”

Hella shrugged, and threw another stone into the water.

Ren sighed again. “Okay.”

Hella was okay with silences, but it was hard not to want to tell Ren things like this since they’d met up again. The words itched in her throat.

“It’s just… Hadrian and I were speaking, earlier, about something, I don’t remember, but he said I didn’t... ping evil, or that, sometimes, I don’t always ping evil. To his god. Or however it is that that sense of his works.”

“Okay...?” said Ren, laughing a little. “You know it’s good not to be evil, right? That’s okay sometimes, to not be evil, Hella?”

“But that’s-! That’s impossible, Ren. People aren’t supposed to… change like that. You said the Varal you know, but I’m not even a Varal that I know, anymore! My own father isn’t coming, after he heard about me allowing my wedding to be a diplomatic gesture. My father, Ren, says he doesn’t even recognize me.”

“Being in love is weird, Hella. People change.”

“I was still evil when I loved you, Ren; I was still evil when Adaire and I were together.”

Ren shrugged. “No offense taken, I think.”

Hella made a frustrated noise, throwing her hands up. “You know I didn’t mean-.”

“No, no,” Ren waved their hands, “You never said it then. It’s nice to hear it now, though. I won’t tell Noah.”

Hella huffed a laugh. Ren grinned at her, bumping their shoulders together.

“I just-” Hella sighed. “What if I become someone unrecognizable? What if my sword doesn’t see me as an equal? If I never get a job again because I’ve gone soft? What if there’s a threat to Fero and Lem and I’m not strong enough to do what needs to be done to protect them?”

“You’re the Queen Killer, you’re a goddamn wild thing. Besides,” added Ren, “love can be a pretty powerful driving force when it comes to that. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Hella was silent for a moment. “A wild thing still likes to have a nest, sometimes.”

Ren reached out and covered one of Hella’s hands with their own. “And you do. Evil or not, those boys love you.”

They sat together in silence for a while, watching the river flow swiftly below them.

Hella sighed. “I suppose we should be getting back before they send out a search party.”

Hella threw one last rock into the river before getting up, giving Ren a hand to help them up. They walked together back towards the party.

Hella felt Ren watching her closely the rest of the night. She tried her best to be a wild thing, helped along by another two comically bright drinks, as she danced and laughed and said rude and risque things to partygoers and workers alike.

Sabrina and Ren guided her back to the bar as the party wound down, both intent on getting Hella a few glasses of water. Hella watched them, listening with half an ear to their worries at becoming sick the week of her wedding. Hella drank the water quickly, winking at Madeleine across the room. Madeleine laughed, and winked back.

“How’s she doing?” Sabrina whispered at Ren, as though Hella couldn’t hear them.

“She’s putting it on,” Ren whispered back, rolling their eyes a bit.

Sabrina nodded. “I figured as much.”

Hella looked up at them, feeling as though the world was spinning slowly. “Are we finished?”

Sabrina ran a hand soothingly through Hella’s hair. “As soon as you finish the water we are, then we’ll get you home.”

“I’m looking forward to that myself,” said Ren, “I must be getting old.”

Sabrina laughed. “I know the feeling.”

Hella clumsily set down the second bottle of water. “Home.”

She’d meant to say more, but the words felt jumbled in her head. Sabrina and Ren seemed to understand her well enough, nodding.

“Alright,” said Sabrina, “let’s get you home.”

----

Here is how Hella knew Lem and Fero were in love:

Hella surveyed the group the city of Velas had given her to track down Calhoun’s ship. Hadrian was there, which was good, at least she knew he’d be dependable in a fight. The others were maybe not as experienced with adventuring as she would have liked.

The Great Fantasmo at least seemed like he had enough life experience to know how to be useful in a tight spot, if it came down to that. The orc and the halfling on the other hand… Hella sighed. They must have travelled quite a way through the forest to get to Velas, but watching them as they stumbled around on the deck of the ship, trying to get their sea legs, didn’t exactly instill confidence that they’d be able to hold their own against pirates.

Fero tripped over his own feet, bumping into Lem’s leg. Lem reached out and steadied him. His touch was a lot more gentle than she would have thought an orc’s would be. Fero looked up at Lem, covering Lem’s hand with his own. They both smiled at each other, almost shyly. Lem blushed, his cheeks turning a deep green.

Oh, thought Hella.

“This is ridiculous,” said Fero, “if I have to be on a boat I’m not going to slide around everywhere the whole trip.”

“Fero,” said Lem, “don’t-”

In Fero’s place was a sparrow, perched on Lem’s hand. His transformation had been so fast that if Hella hadn’t been watching it with her own eyes she wouldn’t have believed it. Perhaps she would be able to depend on them in battle after all, as much as a person could rely on magic.

Lem sighed. “Alright. But you have to transform back later. I don’t think a sparrow can do too much against pirates.”

Fero hopped around on Lem’s hand, chirping sharply.

Lem laughed. “If you say so.”

Fero, still a sparrow, fluttered onto Lem’s shoulder, singing a small tune. Lem whistled the tune back to him, and smiled.

Hella looked away, turning her attention to the waves ahead. Gentle love like that made you soft, in battle and on the road. She would have to keep an eye on them both to make sure they didn’t get themselves too hurt.

----

Hella leant against Sabrina and Ren during the carriage ride home, half-asleep by the time they got her there.

Ren shook her awake. “Come on, almost home.”

“Do you think the boys are back yet?” Hella said around a yawn.

“Only one way to find out,” said Sabrina, “Come on.”

As they entered, Sabrina could see Lem’s coat on the floor, and then a little further towards the stairs, Fero’s coat. Part of the way up the stairs was a shoe, with its match at the top of the stairs.

She and Ren exchanged amused glances.

“Looks like they’re home,” said Ren.

Hella hummed, heading for the stairs. She was mostly steady on her feet, but Sabrina wasn’t about to let her fall down the stairs. Ren seemed to be of the same mind, keeping their hand on Hella’s elbow and they helped her up the stairs.

When they reached the bedroom door, Sabrina knocked. There was no answer, and she looked at Ren, who shrugged.

“They’re probably already asleep if their night was anything like Hella’s,” said Ren quietly.

Hella pushed the door open, stumbling into the room.

Lem and Fero weren’t asleep, although they were thankfully still wearing clothes.

“Hella!” said Fero brightly from the bed, “Hella’s back!”

“How was your night?” said Lem.

“Better now,” said Hella.

Sabrina recognised the look in Hella’s eye as she moved towards the bed and stepped backwards, out of the room. Ren followed Sabrina’s movement.

“Have a good rest of your night!” said Ren cheerfully, as they shut the door behind them.

They exchanged a look as they went back downstairs, giggling as they returned to the carriage.

“It’s a good thing we weren’t coming back any later,” said Sabrina.

“I think Hella would have started a riot if we’d kept her out much longer,” said Ren.

Sabrina nodded, laughing a little. “I hope she managed to have at least a somewhat good time.”

“Well, even if she didn’t, she’s having one now,” chuckled Ren.

Sabrina dropped Ren off outside the inn where they were staying, waiting until they were inside before telling the driver to continue. The streets of Twinbrooke were a lot quieter now, the sounds of the carriage bouncing off the cobblestones.

It was late by the time she reached her own rooms. There was a faint line of light under the door, and Sabrina smiled. She wondered if Hadrian had waited up for her.

It looked as though he’d tried to. Hadrian was asleep sitting up in bed, the Book of Samothes held loosely in his hands. She slipped off her shoes, trying to be quiet as she readied herself for bed.

“Oh,” said Hadrian, his voice sounding scratchy with sleep, “when did you get in?”

Sabrina paused from where she’d begun to remove the pins from her hair, turning to look at him. He’d put the book on the bedside table, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

Sabrina smiled, stepping towards him. “Not too long ago.”

Hadrian rubbed the back of his neck. “I was trying to wait, but…”

Sabrina tangled their hands together. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d gone to sleep without me, you know. It’s been a long night.”

Hadrian pressed a kiss to her hands, humming in agreement. “How was it?”

“It made me think of our wedding actually,” said Sabrina.

“Oh?” said Hadrian.

Sabrina slid forward, so that she was sitting on his lap with her legs bracketing Hadrian’s.

“Oh,” said Hadrian, inhaling sharply.

She let go of his hands, sliding them up his chest, letting the rest on his shoulders. The fabric of his sleep shirt felt soft and warm under her fingertips. Hadrian’s hands rested on her waist, his thumbs rubbing small circles as he looked down at her.

“I take it you had a good time, then?” said Hadrian, smiling.

Sabrina put a hand on his cheek and he kissed her palm.

“The party was fine,” said Sabrina, “but I think, much like Hella, I would much rather have spent the night at home with the one I love.”

She reached up and took out the final few pins, letting them fall to the floor. Hadrian ran a hand through her hair, almost reverently. He had told her, once, when they were courting, that her hair looked as though it was made from the sun itself, like a gift that Samothes had bestowed on these mere mortals. It was perhaps a little blasphemous of him to say, but she thought Samothes could probably excuse them that one small moment.

She pushed at his shoulders until he lay back, letting her hair fall around them like a golden curtain.

It had been this way on their wedding night too, and many other nights since. She didn’t think she would ever tire of it, nor would she ever tire of the expression on Hadrian’s face as he looked up at her.

Sabrina looked down at Hadrian, lightly touching the planes of his face that she knew as well as her own, and hoped that Hella would know such long-lived joy.

Hadrian leant up to kiss her, pushing thoughts of anyone else out of her mind. For now, Sabrina let the world around her shrink to the size of their bed. She would think more about everything else later.

----

Here’s how Fero fell in love with Hella Varal:

They were on the boat, coming back from the Island of Eventide, and Fero wasn’t in the best mood. First of all, he hated boats. Second of all, he hated fighting with Lem, especially when he didn’t understand what they were fighting about. Third of all, he hated when Lem went quiet and got that pinched look on his face, the way he’d looked when they’d left the New Archives. Right now, all those things were happening at once.

Fero figured he should probably take himself above deck before he or Lem broke the strained quiet of their room with the next round of petty arguments. It was cool up on the deck despite the sun shining brightly overhead. Of their little group, only Hella was up on deck, standing in the shade of the sails as she leant against the railing, looking out onto the wide expanse of ocean. She had the dagger that she’d gotten from the tower with her, and she was turning it over and over in her hands absentmindedly.

Fero went to stand next to her, going up on his toes to mimic her position of leaning against the railing. Hella looked down and gave him a small smile before looking back out at the ocean. They both stood in silence, until Fero couldn’t take it any more. He’d never been good at thoughtful silences.

“So,” said Fero, saying the first thing that came into his head, “I’m avoiding Lem.”

Hella looked back at him, raising her eyebrows, and Fero instantly regretted his choice of topic. He should have said something about the weather.

“You’re avoiding Lem,” said Hella.

“Yeah,” said Fero, “he’s being weird right now, I think it’s because of that vision thing he and Hadrian had, did he tell you about that?”

“Hadrian …” Hella hesitated, “Yes, he told me some of it. He’s… also being weird.”

“Oh, are you up here avoiding Hadrian?”

“It’s a little difficult to avoid someone when you’re stuck on a boat with them,” said Hella.

“I don’t know,” said Fero, “I think we’re doing okay so far.”

Hella’s lips quirked upwards in a quick smile before her expression faded back to pensive. She kept the dagger turning in her hand, end over end. Fero wished he’d thought to grab the ones he’d taken from the tower. That would have been something to talk about.

“I’m sure Hadrian will tell you eventually,” said Fero, “Lem’s stubborn too, but he always ends up telling me.”

Hella sighed. “Maybe.”

She was looking down at the dagger in her hands now, watching its movements. Now that she was concentrating on it more fully, she turned it faster and faster.

“Whoa,” said Fero, “Can you teach me how to do that?”

Hella looked amused. “If you like.”

She bent down, putting the dagger in his hand and placing her own over the top to guide his grip. Slowly, she turned the dagger in their joined hands.

“But how do I do it faster?”

Hella chuckled, and Fero could feel the vibration of it, tingling its way along his arm where they were touching.

“Not everything in life is meant to be done fast. Go slow first, and try not to cut yourself when you do it.”

Calhoun nodded to Hella as he walked on deck, heading for the helm. Hella took back both her hand and the dagger, turning it a few times on her own before sheathing it.

Hella looked towards Calhoun. “I should probably…”

“Oh yeah,” said Fero, trying to pretend he knew what she meant, “of course.”

The ship adjusted course slightly as she walked away. Hella was illuminated suddenly, and the sight made Fero’s breath catch in his throat. Her hair shone in the sun like fire. His eyes hurt a little to look at her.

It was only for a moment before the ship readjusted course, and they were in shadow once more. But it was enough -- the image of Hella, illuminated, stayed on the back of Fero’s eyelids, and in his mind, for a long while.

----

Fero woke, bracketed by Lem and Hella’s warm bodies. It was still dark, and they were both still fast asleep. Fero watched them for the space of a few breaths, his eye catching on the lock of hair falling into Hella’s face and the soft flutter of Lem’s dark eyelashes.

Carefully, he wriggled out from between them. Their bodies relaxed a little, still leaving a small space from him to return to later. Trying to be a quiet as possible, he eased open the window a little and turned into a sparrow, hopping through the small crack.

The night air was cold, and he fluffed his feathers before flying upwards, towards the place that Hadrian and Sabrina were staying. It was late, but Fero was fairly certain she’d still be awake -- he’d heard Hadrian airing his worries about Sabrina working herself too hard to Hella often enough.

Fero flew in a circle around the inn, searching until he found a window with light shining from within. Sabrina was still at work inside, bent over a large parchment. He tapped on the window with his beak to get her attention. Sabrina looked up, and Fero tapped again.

She laughed and moved to open the window. “Fero?”

Fero fluttered into the room and turned back into a halfling. “Hey, uh, sorry for coming by so late- or, early? I don’t really know what time it is.”

“It’s very late,” said Sabrina with a sigh.

Fero went up on his toes, looking at the large parchment on the table. “What are you working on?”

“The floorplans for the dinner after the wedding. I had finished them, but the Ordenan group told me today that they would actually like to be at three tables, not two, and they would like at least one of their tables to be next to the table when Ephraim is sitting but not at the table with him…” Sabrina ran a hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face. “But I’m sure you didn’t fly all the way here in the dead of night to ask me about that.”

Fero nodded, still looking down at the parchment. He traced his finger over the long table at the top of the room, the one with his, Hella’s, and Lem’s names on it. Varal, Feritas, King. Soon they would be one name, shared by all.

“Fero,” said Sabrina, “If you have something on your mind, you can tell me. I promise that, despite appearances, I am used to plain speech.”

“We have one of those wedding planning meetings tomorrow,” said Fero, after a moment, “And Lem was saying how it’s going to go all day, which, by the way, is awful and I don’t know why you or anyone would ever do this sort of thing regularly.”

Sabrinna huffed a laugh. “You get used to it. And it needs to be done, there are a lot of fine details that need to be confirmed.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of…” Fero bit his lip, “I guess I just wanted to check that we’re covering name stuff?”

“Name stuff,” said Sabrina.

Fero nodded. “Yeah, name stuff.”

“Can you,” Sabrina hesitated, “can you elaborate on that a little?”

“I mean, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, because it’s like your job to know this stuff, but names are kind of a big deal to halflings, they’re are how you tie one person to another, I mean you can trace basically all of halfling culture through our names. I mean I’ve only ever had the one name, and I used to think it kind of seemed like a stupid tradition before,” he’d been trying for a casual tone, but his voice cracked, “but I get it now, why you’d want to link other people to you like that. Why you’d want people to be able to tell right away who you were tied to.”

He took a shaky breath. “So I just wanted to check. That we were covering name stuff tomorrow.”

Sabrina put her hand on Fero’s shoulder and he looked up.

“I will make sure that we do,” said Sabrina.

Fero let out a long breath. “Thanks.”

Sabrina squeezed his shoulder, and then turned back to her work.

“You’d best be getting back. I am sure that you, like me, would much rather be in bed next to those you love,” said Sabrina.

Fero looked at the parchment for another moment. “What if you put the three Ordenan tables in a loose triangle and they kind of point to the table with Ephraim.”

He took another piece of parchment and sketched a diagram of what he meant.

“That could work, and it would mean that they would be close enough to each other to move between tables but also would have more space to speak with other groups,” said Sabrina, nodding thoughtfully. “Thank you, Fero. You have quite an eye for problem solving.”

Fero blanched. “Uh, thanks. Don’t work on this stuff too long, Hadrian’s starting to worry.”

Sabrina smiled. “Yes, he does that. Goodnight, little bird.”

Fero chirped, flying out into the cold night air once more. The journey home seemed to take no time at all. He hopped back through the window to their room, closing it again carefully.

Hella stirred a little as he crawled back under the covers. “Fero? Where’d you go?”

Fero kissed her shoulder, already feeling their sleepy comfort seep into his bones. “Nowhere more important than here.”

----

Here is how Lem knew Fero was in love with Hella too:

They were walking home from their celebration of the taking back of Calhoun’s ship, Lem staggering as Fero stumbled drunkenly off-balance, interrupting whatever it was that Fero had been saying. They both laughed.

“It was a good night tonight,” said Lem, resting a hand on Fero’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” said Fero.

“Our first proper quest as professional adventurers,” said Lem.

Fero laughed. “We’re already naturals at it.”

“And we fit right in at the post-quest celebrations,” continued Lem.

“We’re naturals at that, too,” said Fero, stumbling a little again.

Lem caught his arm and Fero clumsily changed his grip so that they were holding hands.

“It was good to see everyone celebrating our victory with us,” said Lem.

“Yeah,” said Fero again.

“And it was good to talk to Hella. She’s very pretty.”

The words slipped out without him meaning to, and Lem looked down sharply at Fero. Instead of the reaction he expected, Fero leaned against Lem’s side, smiling up at him.

“Very pretty,” said Fero, “And her hands are just like yours.”

“Are they?” said Lem.

Fero hummed, holding up their joined hands. “Not green, but like … they’re big. And nice-looking. Like the rest of you -- nice and big-looking.”

“Nice and big-looking?” said Lem, laughing a little.

“Mmhmm,” said Fero.

“Fero, do you-”

Fero kissed the back of Lem’s hand, and Lem felt his train of thought slip away. Their room at the inn was just around the corner, and as Fero kissed the inside of his wrist it was difficult to think of anything besides getting behind closed doors.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” said Lem, pulling Fero quickly along the street.

Fero followed easily. “We can talk about whatever you want whenever you want.”

----

Harian had a roll of parchment in front of him for taking notes, comically small glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“We have to discuss your vows, as well as the order of who will go first, and how I should call on you all before and after the signing of the certificate,” said Hadrian, reading off the notes he had already written.

Hella could see Sabrina’s neat handwriting on the page. It looked like she’d written a long list of things for them to cover. Hella pushed down her frustration at the unnecessarily intricate proceedings. They just had to get through this, and then the rest of the day they would be free to do what they liked.

Lem was sitting across from Hella, working on a piece of parchment of his own. He kept it on his lap so the other two couldn’t read. She had a feeling it was unrelated to what they were supposed to discuss in this meeting and that he’d brought his own work to amuse himself.

Beside her, she could feel Fero bouncing his leg up and down, already fidgeting and looking to the window.

“Don’t forget the ribbons,” said Hella.

She made her own mark on the parchment, giving Fero a side-long glance. He stopped fidgeting, folding his hands in his lap. She bumped her arm against his shoulder, and he leant his head against it.

Hadrian, looked up at them over the glasses, trying for a disapproving look. His smile stopped it from being very effective.

“Is there anything else the three of you want to add to the list or bring attention to before we start?” said Hadrian.

“The names,” said Fero.

Hella looked down at him. Ordinarily he had been silent during their meetings, trying to do anything to get things to speed up. Hadrian seemed surprised too, shuffling through his notes and bringing one to the front.

“Yes, I have something here on that,” said Hadrian.

Fero leant forward. “Names are important to halfling culture. In Rosemerrow, it’s the most important thing you can give someone.”

Hadrian nodded. “In the creed, you earn your titles and honorifics. This is a good middle ground between the two cultures.”

Fero made a face. “No no no. You don’t earn titles. You are given people’s names. That’s the whole point: that it’s a gift.”

Hadrian frowned. “You were given the name,” he looked down at the parchment for a moment, “Very Handsome?”

“Sure,” Fero said breezily, “The forest gave that to me.”

Hella couldn’t tell if he was joking, and from the look on Lem’s face he couldn’t either.

“The forest can’t give you a name like that, it’s a title, and also the forest isn’t a sentient being that can bestow anything,” snapped Hadrian.

“How would you know?” said Fero.

Hadrian made a frustrated noise, slamming his hand down on the paper. “I don’t have to be taught to know that what you’re saying is ridiculous. How did you earn something like this?!”

Lem gave Hella a startled look. Hadrian and Fero had gone from what could have generously been called a civil debate and quickly moved on to looking as though they might want to settle this outside. Lem looked from Hadrian to Fero, who were glaring at each other from across the table.

“Isn’t earning a name just being given a name with some hard work?” Lem said hesitantly.

“No.” Hadrian answered.

“No!” Fero said at the same time.

He looked visibly hurt that Lem would say such a thing, giving him a wounded look.

“You know it’s not the same,” said Fero, before turning to stare daggers at Hadrian.

Hadrian kept his gaze, also angry that they had spoken in unison. He looked like he was preparing to say something further, the same look she remembered that he used to wear when dressing down troops.

“Look at that, Lem,” said Hella quickly, keeping her voice light, “you got them to agree on something!”

Lem preened at the compliment.

“She’s making fun of you, man,” said Fero.

Hadrian nodded at Fero’s statement, chuckling a little, the tension in the air gone for now.

Hella laughed at the odd team-up. “A second thing, Lem! A new record!”

She leant across the table to kiss him on the cheek. Lem’s green skin deepened in colour as he blushed, a colour Hella thought he looked very good in.

“Hey!” said Fero, tugging on the hem of her shirt, “Where’s my kiss!”

Hella laughed. This time she could tell Fero wasn’t being serious about his jealousy. His eyes had gone dreamy and distant the way they did sometimes when he saw Lem and Hella together. She leant over to kiss him on the cheek too, lingering too long for it to be called chaste.

Hadrian coughed. “So. Names.”

Hella settled back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap. Fero kicked his feet back and forth under the table, grinning.

“What order should you names go in?” asked Hadrian.

Lem and Hella both looked to Fero, who blinked.

“Um,” said Fero.

“Let’s start simply,” said Hadrian, “whose name should be first?”

“Mine, obviously,” said Lem.

“Is that so?” said Hella, the corners of her mouth twitching as she leant forward, “and just what makes it so obvious?”

“Well, it’s the best name,” said Lem, grinning as he copied her motion so that their hands were almost touching across the table. “So we should start with the best.”

“Well if we’re starting with the best, we should start with Varal,” said Hella.

“Hmm, I think what we need a tie-breaker,” said Lem, “Fero?”

“Feritas should be first,” said Fero.

Lem huffed. “Of course.”

“F for first, F for Feritas,” said Fero, grinning and spreading his hands in front of him.

“You’re ridiculous,” said Lem, smiling.

Hadrian knocked on the table. “Can you all be serious for a moment?”

“I am being serious,” said Fero. “If this name stuff is too complicated, I guess we’ll just have to cancel the wedding.”

The grin slid off Fero’s face as soon as the words left his mouth, going tense around the shoulders. Hella exchanged a quick look with Lem to make sure he’d noticed it too. From the look of concern Lem was directing at Fero, she felt sure that he had.

It was so foolish of Fero to be worried, thought Hella, so foolish that he could ever doubt that she and Lem would hesitate getting married for even a moment. Why, if there was a way or them to be married sooner… huh.

Hella reached over and squeezed Fero’s hand. “You know you’re right, this is getting way too complicated.”

“Maybe we should take a quick break-” Hadrian began to say.

“Let’s just get married right now,” said Hella.

“Now?!” said Hadrian.

“Well, tonight,” said Hella, “Everyone we actually would have wanted to invite to the wedding is coming to that dinner.”

“I don’t know if-” Hadrian waved his hand, but Hella didn’t move her gaze from Fero’s face.

“I know the diplomatic stuff is important, and we can deal with that later, but for now,” Hella squeezed Fero’s hand again, “I would really just like to be married to you. Both of you.”

“Yeah,” said Fero breathily, “Yeah, me too.”

They both looked at Lem. He was blushing.

“That would be…” He leaned over the table to put his hand on top of theirs. “I’d like that.”

Hadrian sighed. “I’ll… see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” said Hella.

She looked down at their intertwined hands. It was easy to imagine the three ribbons over the top of them, the colours binding them together. It felt like the easiest thing she had ever done, and the biggest.

Lem stood, moving around to stand beside them, and they looked up at him.

“We’re getting married,” said Fero, a slow smile blooming on his face.

“Yeah,” said Lem, his face mirroring Fero’s expression.

----

Here is how Fero realised Lem was in love with Hella too:

They’d awoken together in the safety of a yew tree, far closer than Fero had expected. He’d suggested to Lem that Hella might be cold despite her insistence otherwise, glad that the night covered his blush. Lem had agreed readily, settling against Hella’s side and motioning for Fero to take the other. That was his first clue.

After they had reached the tower, and Hella had gone to scout out a good camp spot for the night, Fero bumped his shoulder against Lem’s. Lem looked up from the pile of old books.

“Find anything interesting?” asked Fero.

Lem hummed. “I think so. Although, this place… It’s all interesting, isn’t it? Tucked away in the forest, keeping its secrets...”

Fero made what he hoped was an agreeable sort of hum, not wanting to start an argument with Lem just yet. The tower reminded him of Rosemerrow -- a monument of the past that was only still standing because someone hadn’t bothered to knock it down.

Lem fiddled with the book in his hands. He looked nervously towards the crumbling hole in the side of the tower that Hella had left through, and then back to Fero.

Fero put a hand on Lem’s arm. “Lem?”

Lem bit his lip. “Last night… when we were… you know….”

“Keeping warm?” prompted Fero.

“Yes,” said Lem, “When you offered… that… to Hella, you said that was what we did when we were in the forest, and, um, well, the thing is, at first I thought you meant… something else. You know, the other thing that we do to keep warm.”

Lem’s blush had grown deeper and deeper as he went on.

“Is that… something you would have been okay with?” said Fero hesitantly.

“Yes,” breathed Lem. He ducked his head, looking fixedly down at the book in his hands.

“Oh,” said Fero.

“Not that, you know, I don’t like what we do, just the two of us” said Lem quickly, looking up at Fero. “Because I really do, but I- Hella is- I just keep thinking of her. I hope you don’t- ”

“No, Lem,” said Fero, “I know exactly what you mean.”

“Really?” said Lem.

Fero nodded.

“Well,” said Lem, “that’s… well.”

“Yeah,” said Fero.

He went up on tiptoes to lean in so that he could kiss Lem’s smile that matched his own. He’d meant for it to be quick, a light brush of his lips, but Lem’s arm slid itself around him, pulling him closer, and Fero had a pretty terrible track record of being able to resist that particular movement.

Hella coughed behind them, and they looked towards her.

“I’ve found a good campsite,” said Hella, “When you’re done in here.”

“No, we’re- I’m- I think I have what I need,” said Lem awkwardly, “Fero, could you help me carry some of these books?”

Fero bit his lip, trying not to laugh. “Sure.”

“I’ll just… wait outside,” said Hella.

Fero waited until Hella had stepped beyond the tower.

“So what are we going to do?”

Lem blinked up at him. “Do? About what?”

Fero poked him with the spine of one of the books. “About Hella.”

Lem blanched. “Do we… have to do something?”

“You don’t want to do something with Hella?” said Fero, raising his eyebrows.

Lem blushed again. “I- yes, but… What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“Then she doesn’t,” said Fero, shrugging. “But I’m feeling pretty good about our odds.”

“Oh?” said Lem, “Why’s that?”

“Because the last time I told someone how I felt about them, they felt the same way about me too,” said Fero.

A slow smile spread over Lem’s face. “I suppose we’ve both been pretty lucky so far.”

Fero reached out and tangled their fingers together. “So let’s keep that pattern going.”

Lem let out a long, slow breath. “Okay. Okay, we’ll tell her. On the way back.”

Fero smiled up at him, squeezing Lem’s hand. “On the way back.”

----

Sabrina had planned to host a dinner the night before the wedding. She’d been more than a little flustered when Hella and Hadrian had told her that it would be a wedding that night as well, but in true diplomat style she quickly moved on to fitting into her plans. Flower arrangements were delivered, chairs were organised, guests were advised that they would need to stay a little later than originally planned.

“If only your real wedding had come together so smoothly,” said Sabrina, looking over the arrangement of chairs outside with a critical eye.

“This is the real wedding,” said Hella, “the ceremony tomorrow is just a formality.”

Sabrina looked at Hella and smiled, slipping her arm around Hella’s waist and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“I suppose it is.”

----

It was late by the time they’d finished giving their report to the council. Fero leaned against Lem’s leg as they walked, Lem’s hand on his shoulder. Hella thought he looked too bright-eyed to actually be so tired as to need Lem to hold him up.

When she gave him a look he raised his eyebrows back at her, making an exaggerated sleepy noise. Lem’s hand tightened its grip slightly on Fero’s shoulder, and Fero looked very pleased with himself. Hella pressed her lips together, trying to suppress a grin.

“Do you- We told them to hold our room at the inn for us,” said Lem, a blush faintly colouring his cheeks, “if you need a place to stay tonight.”

“I have a room I rent when I’m in town,” said Hella.

“Oh,” said Lem.

“It’s probably closer than your room is,” she added, “if you would like to see it.”

“Oh,” said Lem again, his blush deepening.

“Sure,” said Fero, reaching out and slipping his hand into hers. “I mean, we don’t have any other plans.”

Hella’s place reminded her of her home town, in that it was just slightly bigger than Too Small for someone of her size, and it always smelled a little bit like fish from the open window and the breeze coming in from the sea.

A bed took up most of the room, with a small set of drawers for her clothes and an assorted amount of weapons littered every surface of the room.

Hella raised her eyebrows at the two of them, daring them to say something about the state of things (as if their room could possibly be more orderly). After all, it wasn’t like she had planned to have anyone over so soon after getting back from a mission. She usually preferred to be alone the night after a long journey, but she didn’t feel quite ready to let them out of her sight just yet.

Fero jumped on the bed immediately, bouncing a little before flopping back down. His feigned sleepiness seemed to slip away into real tiredness, and soon he was asleep. Fero, Hella was delighted to realise, snored.

Hella laughed. Lem was in the corner of her room, looking at the throwing knives she’d picked up at the tower a month or so ago.

“They’re very beautiful. These might have been ornamental more than anything,” Lem said, dangling one of them between his two fingers, turning them in the light of the setting sun.

Hella tapped twice on her sword hilt, considering him a moment.

“There was a time after the Erasure when Ordena wasn’t making steel yet, but we were still fighting to survive, to be powerful. I wasn’t alive then, of course,” she added, “But I heard about it. We all do, when we’re growing up. Now it’s all about building armies in case an attack ever happens, but Ordenas still believe that weapons are weapons, they’re not playthings. They’re not art. Art is for decoration, and weapons are for fighting, and a thing cannot be both.”

Lem nodded awkwardly.

Her sword hummed, and Hella gripped the hilt tightly. “So, with that in mind, it’s strange about my sword, right? It was found on a mission randomly, and someone comes up to me and says that it asked for me, and says how would I like to take it for payment instead of money. I mean, it had to have been some weird bartering tactic, right, because how does a sword ask for anything? So I said ‘Is it magical?’ and they said, ‘It’s Ordenan steel,’ so I took it, because magic is a bit like art in that a thing can either be Ordenan steel or it can be magical, it can’t be both. And it serves me well. But how does a sword ask for anything?”

She unsheathed her blade, the setting sun reflected in it. She felt it pulse in her hand as the last rays of sun shone from behind the Velasian skyline. Lem set the dagger down, and put his hands in his pants pockets. He bent slightly to look closer at the handle of the blade and Hella opened her palms, holding the sword so that Lem could see the design on it clearly.

“And why would an Ordenan decorate a blade handle,” murmured Hella. “Why make a blade into something new and then abandon it in just some ruins in the south?”

The sword quietened in time with the sun dipping below the horizon, finishing its song on two wavering notes. Hella hummed the two notes back, before sheathing it again. She ran her fingers through her hair a few times.

“Anyways, uh. A mercenary has to be good at protection, has to be good at all kinds of fighting. There’s some stuff you can’t do with just a sword.” Hella shrugged. “So I took the daggers.”

Lem nodded again, and began playing with the beads on his bracelet. “It makes sense. If you were with the Archives you would have taken all of them.”

“Why would the New Archives need that many gaudy daggers?”

“Well, they’re very old, see,” said Lem, “so they’re probably connected to some kind of pattern.”

Hella tilted her head. “That’s not very practical.”

Lem let out a breath of a laugh. “No, I suppose not.” He reached out and touched a finger to the sheath of a short sword Hella had lying on top of the chest. “What about this one?”

It grew dark as Hella explained to Lem where she had acquired each blade in her arsenal. Lem nodded attentively through each tale, asking curious questions, only some of which she had the answers to.

Since her room had no chairs, they sat on the bed, speaking in quiet voices so as not to wake Fero from where he was sleeping between them. She lit the few candles she had stored away in the room, the small flames casting long shadows of Lem onto the bare wall behind him. Fero woke up when the last candle was finally lit.

He blinked up at them. “It’s... wow it’s a lot darker than I thought it’d be, I just closed my eyes for a second. Did I miss anything important?”

Hella shrugged. “Lem let me talk about weapons.”

Fero nodded. “They’re sharp, I get it. And sometimes they’re pretty too, like your sword.”

Hella was glad the dim candlelight hid her flushed face.

Fero rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess we should… go?”

“It’s late,” said Hella.

“Yeah,” said Lem.

“No,” said Hella, “I meant, it’s late, so you can stay here instead of walking home in the dark.”

Fero’s smile was brighter than the candlelight. Lem ducked his head, as if trying to hide his expression, as though she wouldn’t have been able to tell he was smiling from the quirk of his tusks.

“That,” said Fero, “sounds great.”

As if to emphasise his statement, he flopped back down on the bed, curling into her and throwing an arm over her side.

Hella smiled down at him, amused. “Fero, I’m going to have to move.”

Fero shook his head, his face rubbing into her side. “No, sorry, I’m already asleep.”

“That’s a shame,” said Hella, “because I don’t sleep fully clothed.”

Fero shot up. “I’m awake, actually, very awake, do you need help with that, like, at all?”

“No no,” said Lem, putting a hand on Fero’s shoulder, “you’re asleep.”

Fero wriggled his shoulders. “I just took a nap so actually I’m the most awake.”

Hella hummed. “I don’t know, maybe that means you’re actually the sleepiest.”

Fero’s hands curled around the bottom of her shirt. “I’m the most awake and I’ll prove it.”

It took a while for Lem and Fero to make it back to their rooms to get a change of clothes. By the time they did it was High Sun Day, which turned out to be a very long day (and night). At the end of that day, Fero declared their rooms closer, and the three of them dragged themselves up the stairs, collapsing on the bed and falling asleep in their clothes.

When Hella finally opened her eyes it was already mid-morning. She looked over at the two of them first, Fero lying half on top of Lem, his face buried in Lem’s neck. Hella smiled.

Their room was, as she’d suspected, about as tidy as her own room. Unlike her room, though, this one had things scattered everywhere, cluttering up shelves and spilling over onto tables and chairs. A collection of different pebbles and sticks on one shelf, a stack of books on another. A collection of potted plants on the table, fern fronds stretching towards the light of the window, a jar full of dried flowers, a few dirty dishes, some laundry slung over the back of a chair.

This wasn’t just a place they stayed for a night or two before they moved onto the next town, the next job. This was a place they lived.

Beside her, Fero made a sleepy, snuffling sound into Lem’s neck and Lem murmured in his sleep in response. Hella ran her hand lightly through Fero’s hair. Fero stilled, his breathing evening out, her touch calming him from whatever was happening in his dreams.

This bed wasn’t as soft as the one in her own room and it was more than a little cramped with the three of them, but it felt more comfortable somehow. It would be easy to rest here for more than a night or two.

Hella closed her eyes and let out a long breath, stretching a little before leaning her head against Lem’s shoulder. With her hand on Fero’s back, she imagined she could feel all three of their heartbeats in the same steady rhythm.

----

The group at the dinner was a small one, much smaller that the mass of people invited to the wedding tomorrow. Still, the three of them had acquired quite a friend group in Velas, and they were a rowdy, cheerful bunch.

Ren was a bottle of wine deep when they asked for the trio to tell Their Story, the story of how they all got together.

“Yes,” said Throndir, waving his cup for emphasis, some wine spilling over the edge as he gestured, “I only know Fero’s version which I think is a little exaggerated.”

“It is not,” said Fero.

Throndir made a face, turning to Hella. “Did you really swoop down from a tree and fight ten bandits single-handedly?”

“It was the bandits that were the ones swooping down,” said Hella, “and I don’t think there were ten of them.”

Lem nodded. “You’re right, there were definitely more than that.”

“Lem, you’re right!” said Fero enthusiastically, slamming his hand down on the table, “It was more like twenty bandits!”

“Fero…” said Hella, laughing.

“Thirty bandits, and Hella fought them all!” said Fero, “Those guys didn’t know what hit them!”

“Is that when you proclaimed your love for Hella?” asked Ren, grinning.

“Um,” said Lem, blush darkening his cheeks.

“Not exactly,” said Hella, “Although they certainly showed their appreciation.”

Fero’s cheeks flushed and he pressed his face into Lem’s shoulder

“No,” said Hella, grinning, “when they first asked me to be together with them, Fero opened by saying I was super strong and pretty.”

“Shut up,” mumbled Fero, still hiding his face against Lem’s shoulder.

Hella laughed.

“I was nervous!” said Fero.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” said Lem.

It was so ridiculous to hear that from Lem of all people, that Fero had no response other than to kiss him. Although, to be fair, there wasn’t much that Lem did that didn’t make Fero want to kiss him.

A chorus of aww’s and catcalls surrounded them. Fero stood up on his chair and did a little bow. Hella jokingly applauded, and Fero leant towards her to catch her hands, pulling her forward to kiss her too. Hella grabbed his shirt, keeping him still for a moment. Fero could taste the Ordenan wine on Hella’s tongue.

“Save something for after the wedding,” said Ren.

Fero blinked at Hella as the broke apart. “I don’t need to save it. I don’t think I could ever run out.”

----

Hadrian looked tired, more tired than he’d looked on High Sun Day. There was a tightness around the eyes that she’d only seen on him during long campaigns.

“Sabrina’s at work,” he said, by way of greeting.

Hella nodded. Things must had been more serious than she’d thought if he’d waited for Sabrina to be out before sending her a message. She followed him into the kitchen and sat down at the table in her usual seat, while Hadrian fussed around making tea for a few moments.

When he finally sat down, pushing the steaming mug towards her, she raised her eyebrows. Hadrian let out a long breath, rubbing a hand over his head.

“It’s been a long week,” said Hadrian, “I…”

He trailed off, looking lost.

“More dreams?” prompted Hella.

Hadrian nodded, then sighed and looked down at his mug.

“Did you talk to Sabrina about them yet?” asked Hella.

If Hadrian seemed this bad, Hella would have been surprised if he had.

Hadrian shook his head, sighing again. “How could I burden her with this?”

“I think Sabrina would rather you tell her,” said Hella.

“You don’t know that.”

This time it was Hella who sighed. “You say that after every battle we’ve ever gone through.”

“This time is different,” said Hadrian, looking pained.

“How is it any different? Because this time he was someone you knew?”

“Because this time I have displeased Samothes,” said Hadrian.

Hella blinked.

“Between High Sun Day, and what I did at the Mark of the Erasure… how do I know she won’t turn away from me as my god has done?”

“I don’t know much about Samothes,” said Hella carefully, “but I don’t think he would ever turn away from you. And I don’t think Sabrina would either.”

“Why is that?”

“Because they both love you,” said Hella. “Even when you’re overly dramatic and morose.”

Hadrian kept looking down at his mug, and so Hella reached over and covered one of his hands with her’s. He looked up sharply.

“Hadrian,” said Hella firmly, “talk to you wife.”

Hadrian let out a long, shaky breath. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I know I am,” said Hella, taking her hand away.

They both sipped in silence for a few moments.

“So,” said Hadrian, “I take it your journey went better than mine.”

“You’ve read my report,” said Hella.

“I have,” said Hadrian, “but we both know that reports never tell the full story.”

“It was... ” Hella remembered a sudden flash of Lem’s hands on her waist, Fero’s eyes dark as he moved towards them both. She cleared her throat. “It was fine.”

Hadrian raised his eyebrows at her. She knew he would wait until she said more, and there was no use prolonging the inevitable with heavy silence.

“We… Lem and Fero and I, on the way we.... stopped for the night.”

“Well, that… makes sense? I wouldn’t have expected that you could have made it back in one day,” said Hadrian.

“No, I mean… we stopped for the night. At an inn. Together.”

“Ah. Well,” said Hadrian, “I don’t think the council will mind the expense? I mean, it’s understandable that you didn’t want to camp out if you didn’t have to.”

“That’s not what I’m-” Hella took a deep breath, “it wasn’t a one time thing.”

Hadrian looked like he was suppressing a laugh. “Hella, I really don’t think the council will mind if you-”

“I’m not trying to tell the council, I’m trying to tell you, will you just let me-!”

Hadrian held up a hand. “Sorry, sorry.”

Hella huffed a breath. “So. Lem and Fero and I, during the trip we… became close, and that last night on the back back into town, they… we- spent the night together.”

She said the last part in a rush, watching Hadrian carefully for his reaction. His eye widened slightly in surprise.

“And before you ask,” said Hella, guessing his next question, “it wasn’t a one time thing, it… It’s been more of a… continuous thing.”

“How continuous is continuous?”

“Well, I came here from their room,” said Hella.

Hadrian’s eyebrows shot up again. “Oh.” He paused. “I thought the two of them were-”

“They are- were. They, uh, asked me to join them? It’s been- they’re good.”

“Oh- um,” said Hadran.

“No, I mean… Well, yes,” said Hella, her mind touching quickly again on clever hands, “but I meant more that they’re good. To me.” She looked down at her mug, rubbing her thumb along the rim. “I feel like they can see the light in me, the one you’re always talking about.”

Hella took a sip of her tea, trying to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks. The house felt very silent, the only noise coming from the distant sound of a cart outside.

Hadrian cleared his throat. “Well. You’ll have to bring them round for dinner one night, so Sabrina can meet them.”

“I- really?”

“If they’re… important to you, then they’re important to us too,” said Hadrian simply.

----

Their wedding was to take place after dinner. Sabrina started herding people outside, hoping to shuffle everyone out of the door before the sun truly set and it would become too cold to do anything.

Only one guest was still around. Hella wanted to say something to get Adaire to leave, even just walk out herself and let Adaire make her own way, but the combination of Ordenan wine and Lem’s hand around her waist kept her warm and unwilling to make the move. Adaire and Lem were discussing the idea of Keys and Legends, as well as the constant use of ornate borders for even simple maps. Lem’s free hand fluttered as he gestured excitedly.

Adaire was insisting that mapmakers just got bored on their journeys whereas Lem was convinced that it was a form of pattern magic -- the small circles and chevrons made the map easier to read, the traveller less likely to get lost.

Adaire shook her head. “Look, no matter how good the map is going to be, you’re always going to have an idiot mercenary who thinks she knows better!”

Adaire smirked and looked to Hella for a laugh, like she would have years ago. But sitting close together and joking by a rough campfire years ago was different to now.

“I don’t think that’s true-,” Lem started.

He tried to move between the two of them, but Hella was a quick draw, no matter how much wine she had had.

Hella waved Lem off. “Look, it was fine. We got out, okay?”

Adaire looked fearful, perhaps she also remembered how quick Hella could draw her blade. “I almost lost a hand, Hella!”

“That does sound bad,” said Lem. His tone reminded Hella of Sabrina, trying to work her way through a difficult situation without getting them all killed. “Hella, don’t you think it’s time we went to get ready?”

Fero looked over from where he had been telling a story to Ren and Thorondir. He ushered them out the door with a quick movement, frowning at them as he approached.

“Hey guys, everything okay? I don’t want there to be any fighting at my wedding, right? And anyway, there’s no time for fighting,” said Fero, taking Hella’s hand, pulling her a little towards the door to the hall, “we’re about to start.”

Lem slid his arm away from Hella’s waist to take her other hand. Hella let herself be led to the smaller side room Sabrina had prepared for them to enter the ceremony from.

“Look, Fero, the only person who would be fighting at your wedding would be the bride,” Adaire spat, following them.

Fero crouched his body slightly in front of the other two, as if waiting for Hella’s signal before he attacked. Hella put a hand slightly on his shoulder, and he stilled under her hand.

“Hella wouldn’t hurt anyone here,” said Lem, sounding steady and sure.

He was turned towards Adaire, but he squeezed Hella’s hand as he said it. Hella tried to focus on the warmth of it instead of in the tight feeling in her chest.

"You've seen Hella kill people!"

"It's different when she does it," Fero moved from the crouch to stand to his full height, as if trying to block what Hella could see of Adaire. “She protects us.”

Adaire waved off his words. "You’re just saying that because you're in love with her."

Fero shrugged. "Yeah, probably."

"She's evil, Fero."

“She's not evil. Not to me," Fero said.

He kept his focus on Adaire, his eyes wary, as he reached one hand behind him to gently touch Hella’s knee. Between Lem’s hand and Fero’s, Hella felt more on stable ground, the binding feeling around her chest relaxing enough for her to breathe freely.

"One day she'll break your heart," Adaire said, and turned to leave. “She broke my heart, and she’ll break yours, too.”

“You left me, Adaire!” said Hella, finding her voice again.

Adaire paused, not turning around. “You left me first.”

“I left for my job! You knew I was going!”

“But there was always another job, wasn’t there?” said Adaire.

“Don’t act as though you weren’t the same way,” said Hella.

This was an old fight, and their words were no different now than they had been years ago. What was different was Lem and Fero beside her, around her, as though they were trying to protect Hella from Adaire’s words. Old swords, new shields.

“We could have travelled together,” said Adaire, turning back to face them, not bothering to hide her tears, “but you had to follow the army.” She pointed at Lem and Fero. “When Ordena asks that of her, she’ll do the same to you.”

Fero went very still, and looked up at Hella.

“But Ordena already asked it of her,” said Fero, his voice barely above a whisper.

“They did,” said Hella. It was hard to say much more around the lump in her throat.

“And you said no to them,” continued Fero, an awed tone creeping into his voice.

Hella nodded.

Sabrina knocked on the door, poking her head into the room. She blinked, looking from Adaire to the three of them, a look of concern growing.

“Is everything... okay? Should I get Hadrian?”

Adaire shook her head. “Don’t worry church-boy over this. I was just about to go.”

Sabrina nodded. “We should... We should get back to the party then, say goodbye to your friends.”

“You guys go ahead,” Hella managed. Her throat felt raw, as though she’d been shouting. “Adaire, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Hella waited until Sabrina had guided Adaire out of the room before she took Lem’s hand, pulling him close to her as Fero was. She looked down at Fero, brushing her hand very lightly through his hair, trying to be as gentle as she knew how. Fero closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against her leg, his small hand warm and solid on her knee.

Lem opened his mouth to speak, but Hella went to kiss him, a slow movement of lips. When they broke apart, Lem looked down to see that Hella had unhooked her sword from her belt and handed it to him.

“Here,” Hella said. “I’m not going to hurt her.”

Lem blinked. “I didn’t think you would.”

The three of them left. Lem and Fero let their contact linger, holding her hands until the last moment before the directions they were going seperated them. Hella ran her hand through her hair, letting out a long breath. Sabrina gave her a concerned look, patting her shoulder as she left, herding Lem and Fero the rest of the way out.

And then it was just Hella and Adaire in the room. It had been a long time since she and Adaire had been alone together. A very long time.

“Look,” said Hella, looking at Adaire, “whatever else we’ve been to each other: we’re friends, and having you come to my wedding is actually a lot nicer than I thought it would have been, but don’t say shit like that to them ever again.”

Adaire sniffed. “Because it’s true and you don’t want them to know.”

Hella shook her head. “‘No, because it’s not good for you to keep reliving it every time we see each other. And it’s not much better for me either.”

Adaire was silent. Hella sighed.

“We wanted different things, Adaire. We wouldn’t have made each other happy, in the end.”

Adaire looked away. “Will you be happy with them? In the end?”

Hella thought about how Lem looked holding her sword, about how Fero liked to braid her hair when they didn’t have to leave until the afternoon. About how Fero had been teaching the two of them how to bake pies for Ren’s dinner parties every other week, and streaks of flour on Lem’s cheeks. Hella thought about how they were sneaking out soon, to get married because they just couldn’t wait another day.  

“Yeah,” said Hella, “Yeah, I think so.”

They sat together for a long, quiet moment.

“I’d like to stay for the ceremony,” said Adaire, “if that’s alright.”

“Of course you can stay. I meant what I said,” said Hella. “I really am glad you’re here.”

When Hella opened the door, she almost knocked Fero and Lem to the floor. Fero was sitting on Lem’s shoulders, holding a cup against where the wood of the door would have been. They both reeled back, Fero almost falling to the floor as Lem lept backwards. Hella caught him easily, plucking the cup from his hands and raising her eyebrow at him as she held it up.

Adaire breezed past the three without another word, meeting another halfling who was trying their best to stay hidden down the hallway, but like Fero, was a little too nosy for their own good. Adaire grabbed their hand on the way past, pulling them after her.

“I was just curious!” said Fero.

Hella laughed. She leant forward to kiss him. She’d only meant to do it lightly, but Fero’s hand grasped at her collar, deepening the kiss. She dropped the cup, letting it fall to the floor in order to cradle the back of Fero’s head.

“What are the chances that we could sneak away before Sabrina catches us again?” said Hella, when they broke apart.

“We’re pretty sneaky,” said Fero, keeping his lips so close to her’s that they brushed as he spoke.

“I don’t know that sneakiness is going to do us much good,” said Lem, “given that people are gathering outside waiting for us to get married.”

Fero leant back, reaching out to pull at Lem’s shirt. “So they can wait a little more.”

Lem half-leant over Hella’s shoulder to kiss Fero. She could feel Fero sigh in her arms as Lem deepened the kiss. Hella put her arm around Lem’s waist, pulling him closer. Lem ran a hand up and down her back, warming her even more than the wine had done. She slipped her hand under Lem’s shirt, grinning as Lem shivered.

The was a sharp knock at the door. The three of them paused, looking towards the door.

“Hella, are you in there?”

“If I say ‘no’ will you give me ten more minutes?” said Hella.

“Ask for twenty,” whispered Fero.

Sabrina opened the door, raising her eyebrows at the three of them. Fero grinned, looking surprisingly sheepish, and Lem blushed, but Hella raised her eyebrows right back at Sabrina.

“First you can’t wait until tomorrow for your wedding and now you can’t wait an hour for your honeymoon?”

“Don’t give me that,” said Hella, “I remember what you and Hadrian were like the day of your wedding.”

Sabrina flushed slightly, huffing a laugh. “Yes, well. Then you can appreciate my side of things both then and now. Come on, time to get ready.”

Hella could see Thorondir behind her, waiting to tell Lem and Fero the same.

She sighed, setting Fero down on the ground. She put a hand on his cheek and he leant into her touch. With her other, she squeezed Lem’s hand, looking from one to the other. Suddenly, oddly, she felt a flutter in her stomach.

“I’ll see you both soon,” said Hella.

“Yeah,” said Fero faintly, “see you at the wedding.”

As soon as they left Fero and Lem, Sabrina transformed into a being of pure panic, caught up in a thousand small worries: tittering about how Hella’s dress wasn’t done, how were they going to keep this hidden from the Velasian council, how the flowers weren’t ready, how the hairdresser wasn’t going to be in until tomorrow.

“Hella, I hired painters for official portraits, and they won’t be here until the morning!” Sabrina threw her hands up, pacing back and forth. “They were supposed to be done before your wedding!”

Ren just sat behind Hella, slowing brushing the knots out of her hair. In the mirror, Hella could see Ren bite their lip to suppress a grin.

“Then they’ll just do official portraits tomorrow. Sabrina,” said Hella, trying to get her attention. “This is just for us. For the people we love to have this moment with us together. Everything can still happen tomorrow as planned, but this is going to be easy.”

Ren nodded, and began to braid Hella’s hair up into her usual style. Hella reached up and stopped their hand. Ren raised their eyebrow.

“Can I...keep it down? Maybe away from my face at most?”

Ren thought for a moment. “What about a small braid in the back? Just to keep your face clear?”

Sabrina paused from where she was pacing, coming over to place a hand at Hella’s shoulder. “That would be nice, Ren.”

----

A quiet milestone:

Lem fussed with the front of his jacket as they walked, doing up the buttons and then undoing them again, trying different combinations of which were undone and which were done.

“You look fine,” said Hella.

“I’m trying to find the right pattern for dinner,” said Lem.

Hella looked to Fero, amused, half-expecting Fero to have a teasing remark. Fero wasn’t looking at Lem. He was chewing his lip, looking fixedly ahead. He smoothed down his hair as they walked.

“All right,” said Hella, stopping suddenly, “what’s gotten into the two of you?”

Lem and Fero stopped beside her, exchanging worried glances.

“Nothing,” said Fero. “We’re fine.”

“You’ve been acting odd all day,” said Hella.

“We have not,” said Fero.

“Yes, you have,” said Hella. She hesitated. “Did you… If you didn’t want to come to dinner tonight, you should have just said so. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not that!” said Lem, “I mean, it’s sort of that, but we do really want to come.”

“... But?” prompted Hella.

Lem blushed, a faint tinge of darker green across his cheeks. “But we don’t really know Hadrian that well?”

“What does that- oh,” said Hella, laughing a little, “you don’t have to be nervous, it’s just Hadrian and Sabrina.”

“Oh yeah, sure, just the Sword of Samothes and his powerful Velasian diplomat wife,” said Fero sarcastically, “nothing for a runaway Archivist and forest druid to be nervous about.”

“They’re not… Wait,” said Hella, “is that why you shaved?”

Fero blushed. “No.” He rubbed a hand over his chin, looking up at her. “Why, does it… look bad?”

“It looks fine.”

Fero blinked up at her. “Just ‘fine’?”

“You look very handsome,” said Hella, rolling her eyes at him.

“I know,” said Fero, grinning, “but I meant... what did you think of the beard?”

Hella laughed, lightly shoving Fero’s shoulder. She looked at Lem. He had buttoned the middle section of his jacket, his hands fiddling with the bottom button.

“You both look fi- very handsome,” said Hella, “and you already know Hadrian, and Sabrina is going to love you both.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Fero, “I don’t normally get along with diplomat types.”

“Neither do I,” said Hella, “So trust me, you’ll get along with Sabrina.”

Fero let out a breath. “Yeah, okay. Lem?”

Lem did up the last button on his jacket, made a face, and then undid it. Fero reached up and put his hand over Lem’s.

“Hold on,” said Lem, “I think I’ve almost got it.”

Hella sighed. She wasn’t sure whether Lem was actually doing pattern magic or working out some nerves, but if they didn’t get a move on they were going to be late for dinner. Normally she wouldn’t have minded; after all, she often had dinner with Hadrian and Sabrina when they were all in Velas. But she didn’t normally bring guests. It felt important that they be on time.

Hella covered Lem and Fero’s hands, squeezing once before letting go. “Come on. If you need to fix it-”

“Which you don’t,” said Fero.

“-you can fix it on the way,” continued Hella.

Lem flexed his fingers, undoing all of the buttons on his jacket. He took a deep breath in and out.

“Okay,” said Lem, nodding, “I think that’s… yeah.”

“Okay,” said Hella, “Let’s go.”

Sabrina was much too polite to her first-time visitors to mention that they were late, but the food already laid out on the table by the time they arrived.

“Sorry,” mouthed Hella.

Sabrina waved a hand, smiling as she ushered them into the dining room.

“Welcome, welcome,” said Sabrina, “Lovely to meet both of you. Please, come and sit down, I’ll go get Hadrian - he’s just reading Benjamin a bedtime story.”

Normally when Hella came around to dinner they ate in Sabrina and Hadrian’s homey kitchen, not the dining room, with its small shrine to Samothes in the corner and polished wooden chairs. Hella also noticed Sabrina had laid out her set of good linen napkins. She raised her eyebrows at Sabrina as they sat down.

Sabrina raised her eyebrows right back, her gaze flicking quickly to Lem and Fero and back to Hella. Hella hoped that the candlelight of the room was low enough to hide her blush.

She took her usual seat next to Hadrian’s chair, and Lem and Fero sat across from her. Lem folded his hands in his lap, looking curiously down at his place-setting. Fero tapped on the polished surface of the table, clinking against the silverware. The silence in the room seemed thicken the longer Sabrina was gone.

“So,” said Fero, “I didn’t know Hadrian had a kid.”

Hella hummed. “A son. Benjamin.”

“Oh?” said Lem, “How tall is he?”

He grinned down at Fero, and Fero made a face back at Lem. Before they could go any further, Sabrina and Hadrian entered. Lem half-rose from his chair and then sat back down, flushing faintly.

“Benji was asking after you,” said Hadrian, “Apparently I just don’t tell as good of a battle story as his aunt Hella.”

“What can I say,” said Hella jokingly, “when you’ve got it, you’ve got it, and when you don’t…”

“Alright,” said Sabrina, laughter in her voice.

Hadrian bowed his head and closed his eyes, and Fero quickly looked to Hella with undisguised panic. Hella minutely shook her head, and smiling at his panicked expression. Dinner prayers could be long, but Hadrian and Sabrina normally kept theirs short.

Hadrian cleared his throat. “Thank you Samothes for building the sun out of the Nothing, to protect us from the Dark. Thank you, Samothes, for allowing the sun to help grow the plants we eat, and to make food for the meal we are also about to eat. Thank you, Samothes, for the continued health of my family, and for our guests here tonight.”

Hadrian looked back up at them, a small smile on his face. Sabrina kissed his cheek.

“Okay, please eat!” said Sabrina, looking to Hella first.

The clattering of metal on porcelain filled the air for a few moments, covering the silence.

“So, Lem,” said Sabrina, “Hadrian tells me that you’re from the New Archives?”

Lem’s knife scraped against his plate and he winced. Fero gave Lem a look out of the corner of his eye.

“Um, yes, originally.”

“There are a number of Archivists working in Velas,” said Sabrina. “Their projects are quite interesting, from what I understand of them.”

“Yes,” said Lem. He opened his mouth as if he were about to say more and then shut it again, looking down at his plate.

Sabrina raised her eyebrows at Hella again. Hella shrugged. Lem could be cagey about the Archives, and she certainly hadn’t pressed him enough to be able to guide Sabrina’s conversation through those waters.

“I’m told there are some Archivists working in Rosemerrow too,” continued Sabrina after a moment, “Is that how the two of you met?”

“Nah,” said Fero, “we met in the forest. I, uh, didn’t really stick around in Rosemerrow much longer than I had to.”

“I understand it’s undergone a number of changes in recent years,” said Sabrina, “perhaps you’d like it more now.”

Fero made a face. “Probably not. I mean, sure, it’s changing, but it’s just the same stuff with a different skin.”

Sabrina hummed noncommittally.

“What I mean is,” said Fero, “as long as guys like Lenny Lenova stick around, it’ll always be the old ways first and actually changing things second.”

Sabrina gave Fero a curious look, pausing for a moment.

“I think second is a little generous,” said Sabrina.

“You’re right,” said Fero, waving his fork to point, “it’s more like old ways first, changing things sixth or seventh.”

“You know,” said Sabrina slowly, “I heard Lenny added a fourteenth name recently.”

“What?” said Fero.

Lem groaned. “Do not get him started.”

Despite his tone, Hella could see the corner’s of Lem’s mouth twitch up.

“He’s got fourteen,” said Fero, his fork waving violently back and forth as he gestured, “what kind of idiot gave him the fourteenth name, and please don’t say it was a Feritas.”

“It wasn’t a Feritas,” said Sabrina, amused.

“Well that’s something at least,” said Fero, slumping back down in his seat.

“And you know what they say about the fifteenth name,” said Sabrina.

“Yeah yeah, sometimes crusty traditions bring small mercies,” said Fero, “can you even imagine what kind of chancellor he’d be?”

“All too easily,” said Sabrina dryly.

Fero barked a laugh. Sabrina grinned widely, the corners of her eyes crinkling in amusement.

“This is getting dangerously close to work talk,” said Hadrian, giving Hella an amused look.

“Not at all,” said Sabrina smoothly, “we’re just testing the crossover of our social circles,  isn’t that right Fero?”

Fero nodded, laughing. “Uh huh, absolutely.” He made a face, scrunching up his nose. “I don’t want Lenny in my social circle though, ugh.”

“Alas, for me such social circles came with the job,” said Sabrina, “And at least I don’t have to worry about bumping into him in the street, at least not until my next visit to Rosemerrow.”

“Do you go often?” asked Lem.

“As often as is required of me,” said Sabrina, “Have you spent much time there?”

Lem’s eyes flicked to Fero. “I’ve, um, I’ve never been actually.”

“You don’t need to,” said Fero, “Trust me buddy, Velas is way better.”

Sabrina smiled. “Well I certainly like to think so.”

“It is!” said Fero, throwing his hands up, “and the people here, the people are better. I mean, the ones we’ve met have been.”

“They have been very nice,” said Lem, “They’ve been very good at talking to me about their days.”

“Their days?” asked Sabrina.

“Oh!” said Lem, blushing faintly, “it’s just a… project I’m working on at the moment.”

“For the New Archives?” asked Sabrina.

“The New New Archives,” Hella and Fero muttered in unison, like a call and response.

“Not really,” said Lem, absentmindedly smiling at the two while still speaking “I mean, maybe, one day, but at the moment it’s a bit too… current for their tastes. It’s a sort of catalogue of Velas, and people’s lives here now.”

“That sounds fascinating,” said Sabrina, “have you made any interesting discoveries so far?”

“Well,” said Lem, “it’s a little too soon to tell, really, but I have found some really interesting patterns through the fish market.”

Lem proceeded to go through his findings. Hella had heard it all before of course, but there was something about the excited tone of his voice and the particular shine to his eyes when he described his work that made Hella want to stop what she what doing and listen. She thought Fero probably felt much the same -- he still fidgeted as Lem talked, folding his napkin into various animal shapes, pushing his food back and forth across his plate, but he stayed silent, smiling as Lem sketched patterns in the air. Hella met his eyes across the table and they grinned at each other.

“Well,” said Sabrina when Lem paused for breath, “that all sounds very interesting. I’m sure their are some council members who’d love to hear about it in more detail.”

“I- Really?” said Lem.

“Oh yes,” said Sabrina, “Councilwoman Lightsberry has a particular interest in these things, I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

“Oh,” said Lem, flushing faintly, “Well that would be… thank you.”

Sabrina waved a hand. “Now, who’s ready for dessert?”

Fero stuck his hand high in the air, waving it back and forth enthusiastically.

Sabrina laughed. “I’m glad you’re enjoying my cooking. I admit, I’m always a little worried when we entertain those who don’t need to eat.”

“I don’t know why,” said Hadrian, “They always like it.”

“Of course they do,” said Fero, “this food is the best.”

Sabrina smiled. “You haven’t even had the best part.”

“Well let’s go!” said Fero, jumping down from his chair with his plate, “Come on Lem, get your plate! The sooner we clear the table the sooner we can get dessert in here!”

“Oh, no,” said Sabrina, “you don’t have to-”

“We insist, don’t we Lem?”

“Ah, yes,” said Lem, “I suppose we do.”

Hadrian stood up and Fero rushed out of the room, his arms laden down with plates.

“I’m going to make sure they don’t break anything,” said Hadrian.

Sabrina waited until Hadrian had left before she leant forward, motioning for Hella to do the same.

“So,” said Sabrina, “those are the two you’ve been talking about?”

“Yes,” said Hella. She paused, biting her lip for a moment. “Do you- I mean, you’re probably a better judge of character than I am when it comes to this. What do you think of them?”

“Well that doesn’t really matter, does it?” said Sabrina. She reached out and covered Hella’s hand with her own. “As long as they make you happy.”

“Of course it matters what you think,” said Hella.

Sabrina smiled. “I do like them. And they obviously adore you.”

Hella felt herself flush. “Do they?”

“Oh Hella,” said Sabrina, “I’d recognise that kind of lovesick look anywhere.”

Hella pressed her lips together, smiling down at the table.

“And they make you happy?”

“I’m glad you like them,” said Hella, “they wouldn’t say, but they were very nervous about having dinner here tonight.”

“Really?”

“Yes. It took them about a hour to get ready and” Hella leaned forward, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Fero shaved.”

Sabrina laughed, delighted. “Well now I am impressed. You should tell him it’s a good look for him.”

“I already did.”

“Oh really,” said Sabrina, waggling her eyebrows.

Hella rolled her eyes through a light blush.

Sabrina squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you brought them around tonight. We should have dinners together more often, now that you’re in town.”

“I’d like that,” said Hella.

----

Across the hall, Thorondir and Red Jack were helping Lem and Fero dress, while Lem was also doing last minute touch ups with Hadrian. Going through the running of the ceremony seemed to be keeping both Hadrian and Lem calm.

“So the reading from the Book, and then the original vows?” Hadrian double-checked.

Lem nodded. “Then the three ribbons, the calling of our names, and the kiss.” Lem blushed. “Five is a very important number -- it’s good luck in orc culture: a tie breaker.”

Hadrian smiled and put a hand on Lem’s shoulder. “It’s good luck within the Creed, too.”

Thorondir sat cross-legged on the floor while he tied Fero’s bow tie. Fero made sure his dad’s suspenders, which had luckily arrived just a few hours before, were straight. Red Jack touched the top of Throndir’s head lightly, and Throndir smiled up at him. In his hand was a small ring of ferns and ivy, intertwined with small bluebells and red honeysuckle flowers.

Red Jack’s big hands slowly lowered the wreath below Fero’s small ones, as if to make sure that Fero was agreeing to a trade. Fero huffed a breath out, looking down at the arrangement and touching the tips of the leaves gently with his fingertips.

“Throndir, Red Jack, it’s lovely,” said Lem, “When did you-.”

“A blessing, from the forest.” Red Jack said solemnly.

Fero nodded, placing the crown onto his head. Lem reached over and straightened it.

“Beautiful,” said Lem.

Fero flushed pink.

----

Here is how Hella knew she was in love with Fero:

The process of Hella fully moving into Fero and Lem’s small room above the inn was slow going. There were a lot of forgotten shirts left in Hella’s old rooms over the other side of town, and even more nights where she’d meant to return there, only for them to be surprised that the sun had risen again while they’d been talking.

Not all her nights were spent in Velas. Hella had left, for a time. She had a map that led her to a cave near Ordena that felt like an itch she needed to scratch, not caring if blood would be drawn if she pressed too hard.

If Fero and Lem were surprised when she brought back a bag of books, they were probably more surprised when they were for herself to read. She told them in halting words that the books were about her family, and neither of them teased her much for reading after that.

Some nights they didn’t talk. Some nights Lem kept the fire going late into the night, and he and Hella sat in the rocking chair or the bed and read quietly from their respective books. Fero, however, did not have books for himself. But one can study the plant in their room for a few hundred hours before one grows bored again.

Hella was on the second book of her collection, with no intention that particular night of going back to her small place in the Sun district, when something jumped on her lap.

Hella looked down, and then over to Lem. “We have a cat?”

Lem laughed quietly. “We have all sorts of different pets when Fero gets bored.”

Hella chuckled. “I see.”

Fero looked up at her. His eyes were the same as his halfling eyes.

Lem put his book down and walked over to where she was sitting on the chair.

“Watch this,” he said, before scritching under the neck of the small, light brown cat. Fero began to purr, loud and for a whole minute. When Lem paused, Fero butted his head against Lem’s hand.

Hella smiled, feeling warm. “That is nice.”

Lem nodded, pressing a light kiss to the top of Hella’s head. “He’ll stay there until you want to go to bed, and then he miraculously isn’t sleepy whatsoever.”

The cat looked up and hissed at Lem, making Lem and Hella laugh. Lem went back to his own book, and Hella hesitantly scritched behind his ear again. Slowly, Fero fell back asleep, curled into a tight ball on her lap. He was perfectly out of the way for her to turn her pages without hitting his fur or making her arms uncomfortable. She thought perhaps he’d had practise with this particular position with Lem.

It became routine, after a week or so. When Hella brought a bigger pack with more clothing in it, Fero wordlessly consolidated his things into one drawer for her, leaving the empty drawer partly open for her to notice. Lem started asking the bartender for foods that Hella liked more often.

Fero also fell asleep in Hella’s lap, a lot. Sometimes she and Lem would just be talking, after dinner was done, and she would expect Fero to laugh at something she had said and instead he would be already asleep in her lap. Despite it becoming a regular occurrence, it always made something flutter and then clench in Hella’s chest. Fero seemed more fragile when he was still, and doubly so when he was in the form of a small creature.

Hella picked him up and he stayed in cat form as she moved him gently into the bed. Lem was already undressing for sleep after a long day.

“Is he... is he okay?” whispered Hella. “I worry he’s sleeping too much.”

Lem shook his head. “He used to do that a lot, when we first, you know...” Lem shrugged. “Something about nesting, I don’t know. It might have been a metaphor, now that I think about it.”

Hella smiled, before kissing Lem and then the top of Fero’s head.

“It’s nice. Not the cat hair, but the constant warmth,” said Hella.

Fero slowly blinked awake and began pawing at her stomach to make it more comfortable for the rest of his sleep. She petted him almost absent-mindedly.

Lem laughed quietly into Hella’s shoulder. “Yeah, it is. He told me once that being an animal is easier, because it’s all about smells and primal instincts and not so much about feelings, y’know? Apparently we two-leggers think too much.”

When she woke up, Fero was halfling shaped again, still mostly curled on top of Hella. She huffed a laugh and ran a hand through his hair. Lem had already left for the morning, probably to do more of his modern history project if the missing journal was any indication.

Fero stretched and began kissing a line up to her face. Hella made a pleased humming noise as he reached her throat.

“I heard you and Lem talking, last night,” said Fero, nuzzling her neck.

“Oh?”

“It’s- When I’m... when I’m an animal.... You two... you two smell like you’re mine,” he muttered, still sounding half-asleep, his face hidden in her shoulder, breathing into her ear. “It’s nice.”

Hella could feel his blush on her cheeks.

That day Hella paid the rest of the month for her small room, and brought the remainder of her belongings to where Lem and Fero were; to where it smelled like home.

----

“So,” said Sabrina, tucking a strand of hair behind Hella’s ear, “do you have everything? Old, new, green, clean?”

Hella smiled. “Yes, we’re covered.”

Four small things, a Hieron wedding tradition.

Something old: The name, “Feritas”, written on the inside of Fero’s suspenders. It wasn’t his father’s handwriting, or even his father’s-father’s handwriting. It’s much older than that, the lettering faded but still legible. It’s all he has to give them really, other than himself.

Growing up in Rosemerrow is growing up hearing about the good old days, about how society needs to turn around and go back to those ways. Fero had spent most of his life loudly disagreeing with that, but maybe the past isn’t worth completely destroying. The past is where he met Lem and Hella, and he quite liked that part of the past and how it’s intertwined itself with his future.

Fero wished he could take them to that spot by the sands he used to go to as a child, the one that’s now all tall buildings instead of old trees, and show them the places he used to go, point out all the things he used to see and do until they knew every word of his past as surely as he did.

The past had given him his names too, names that he could give to other people, that he wanted to give to other people. Just like the past had Hella and Lem names, names that would soon become his too. Become theirs.

Something new: Sabrina brought Hella a necklace, slipping it around her neck as Ren put the finishing touches to Hella’s hair. A diamond ring with their three colors intertwined around the ring on a simple gold chain. It reflected the light, even seeming to absorb it from the candles, making the light shine through onto her chest like the sun itself was caught inside her.

Ren and Sabrina had picked it out after Hella’s hen’s night party. Ren thought the necklace would be less likely to hurt her in battle, Sabrina thought the way it hit the sun was particularly dazzling, just like Hella herself.

Something green: The blush on Lem’s cheeks after Fero kissed him thoroughly, before pushing him towards the door to get ready. It didn’t matter how many times they’d kissed, it made Lem’s heart beat faster every time, out of it’s own pattern and into another.

Lem was set to perform the first Assurance of Commitment, and so he had to enter the hall first. Lem nervously touched the five piercings on his ear’s helix. He changed them out from their normal arrangement - green and blue, and one red one at the bottom. Fero squeezed his hand, and Lem looked down at him. The ivy leaves framed Fero’s smiling face. It reminded Lem of a moment a very long time ago, when Fero had looked down at him from a tree and taught him the language of birds.

Lem took a steadying breath, and walked out, towards where the ceremony would begin.

Something clean: Hella had polished her sword early that morning, before the other two had awoken. She smiled at the reflection of their sleeping bodies in her blade. Her sword hummed softly, an old familiar tune.

The steady movements of Hella’s whetstone up and down her blade only stopped occasionally when she tipped a bucket of soapy water down the blade before reapplying the whetstone again for another five runs.

As she ran a silk cloth down the blade, it began to glow, a light yellow -- like the sun peeking through on a cloudy day. She could still see her two in the reflection; they had not moved while she cleaned her blade to a shine. Hella waited for something to appear in the sword, dreading the worst. Instead, it sang the song again: the fisherman returning home, quietly, as though it was trying not to wake Lem and Fero up.

She wondered if swords could feel joy in things besides war and death, because this one seemed to. Perhaps it had changed with her.

And one more, for luck:

Fantasmo arrived at the small gathering of chairs that Ren had taken from the hotel and brought just inside the tree line of the woods. He nodded to the others there, before taking a seat at the chair closest to the hotel.

“I was informed that the ceremony had been moved earlier, and I did not wish to miss such a historic moment!” Fantasmo told Thorondir.

Thorondir nodded politely. Later, when he mentioned Fantasmo’s presence anyone else in attendance who had time to go off to reach him, he found none of them had. Throndir put it down to Fantasmo’s heightened senses (he was, after all, The Great).

----

Lem began writing his vows after a night on the town.

Lem had learned how to fight with a sword in a large, echoing cave in the New Archives. It was filled with rugs designated as too worn to be of any use to the Archivists for studying. Fencing, they called it, and they used long wooden or metal sticks that slowly were switched out for incredibly dull swords as you became a young adult. It was a more practical class that their usual ones, and Lem loved it.

“Adventurers,” an instructor told his class once, “would sword fight. Some of them still do today, proof of the greater pattern. They would take up their blade, and move it back and forth against another person’s sword, and whoever had the faster swings were deemed the better fighter and therefore would win the battle.”

Lem did exercises with the sticks and then the dull blades. Lem fought his school enemies, his best childhood friends, even some family group members. And as Lem found that musical pattern magic was his calling, he found that if you treated sword fighting a bit like a dance, and kept music in your head, your movements would hit true to the pattern more often.

After he left the New Archives and became an adventurer out in the world, he discovered it was a bit more difficult to keep music in your head during battle than it was during class exercises. Still, he did okay, all things considered.

One day Fero decided it was their one month anniversary, and took them out a pub in the Garden District, enticing Lem to play some music in exchange for some drinks. Hella danced, with Fero and with others, cheering appreciatively whenever he finished a song. It reminded Lem of the the first time they had spent the night together (when he mentioned it to Fero, Fero winked).

Lem, despite having rough skin and big muscles, was the lightest drinker of the three of them. Walking back to their room in the Fish District, Lem leaned on Hella for support, while Fero wandered on a little bit ahead of them both. Lem could hear him telling a group of mice up ahead about how wonderful alcohol was, how good of a dancer Hella was, how amazing it was to be in love.

“He’s going to make the mice very jealous,” said Lem.

Hella laughed, a little high-pitched, like always when she had one too many drinks. She’d laughed while she had been dancing too. Lem turned to Hella, remembering how she’d danced that night to his music, the patterns of her footwork.

“You know,” said Lem conspiratorily, “You’re a very good dancer.”

Hella kissed him messily on the cheek. “I’m a little out of practise at it.”

“But you’re a fighter,” said Lem, “Isn’t swordfighting supposed to feel like a dance, sometimes?”

“Uh, yeah?” Hella leant in closer, slowing their pace. “Sometimes it feels like my sword and I are dance partners, and we have to be sure to not step on each other’s toes.”

Lem nodded, before kissing her neck, because it was the closest part of her and it seemed like the thing to do. He must have been right to do it too, because Hella blushed.

As they undressed for bed that night, a little too sleepy to do much else but collapse in on themselves, Hella turned to Lem. Fero had already clambered into the bed, stretching out and then curling into himself, wriggling into the mattress.

“Do you really think I’m a good dancer?”

Lem nodded, stumbling as he put himself off-balance. Hella steadied him, and he leant into her.

“Sometimes when you fight it looks like you’re dancing,” said Lem.

“I suppose I must be good at it, then,” said Hella. She paused. “Do you think of sword fighting like dancing?”

Lem’s thoughts felt hazy. “Swordfighting feels like playing the violin, too. Except sometimes you’re not sure if you’re the instrument or not.”

Hella kissed him, softly. “I can teach you how to tell.”

----

Hadrian read a small passage from the Book of Samothes (not that there were really any small passages). Fero tuned out, looking at Lem and Hella and thinking about how long forever was going to be.

“And now,” said Hadrian, startling Fero as he snapped the book shut, “I believe the three of you have prepared your own vows?”

“Yes,” said Hella.

Lem and Fero nodded. Fero didn’t know about Lem, but his throat felt too tight to speak. Hadrian gestured and Throndir stepped forward, holding out the ribbons to them. They hesitated, looking at each other for a moment.

“I’ll, um, I’ll go first shall I?” Lem cleared his throat. “I- For an Archivist, I am sometimes not very good with words. Music is far easier for me, but as this is a situation that calls for words, and as you have both already heard my song for you, it seemed only right that I should write you a poem.”

“And people say I’m the showoff,” said Fero.

Hadrian shushed him.

Fero recognised the parchment Lem brought out -- it was the same parchment he’d dragged along to meeting after meeting, the one he wouldn’t let them see. From the look on Hella’s face, she recognised it as well.

Lem took a deep breath and began to read:

The Archivists are a solitary people, but not a lonely sort.

We find camaraderie in the quiet turning of pages and scratching quills.

The world is so loud that I am sometimes certain that I will perhaps

Lose myself in the crests and waves of sound.

These two are like watching the sunset on a sandy beach,

And a good drinking song, and the warmth of a fresh pot of tea.

Hella, like the sea, expands forever outward.

She is a sword, and a shield, and always reminds me to eat.

Fero is like the forest, dense and confusing when you’ve just entered.

He is brave and feels like a summer breeze, reassuring no matter the time.

I promise to be a library on a rainy day, a book of sheet music,

And drawings of herbs that are safe to eat while on a journey.

I promise to be your safe haven, your home base, your

Confidant, your biggest supporter.

You have been these things for me, and I will endeavor to do them for you.

Lem laid his blue ribbon across their joined hands, looking shyly at them.

“Well,” said Hella, squeezing their hands.

Fero nodded, feeling light-headed. Lem smiled.

Throndir handed Hella the red ribbon. She reached into her pocket and took out a scrap of parchment.

Hella took a shaky breath. “When you enter into the Ordenan army, they make you take a vow, a fealty vow, to always honor the glory of Ordena above all else. Now, I never quite made it into the army-” Ren laughed, and Hella grinned in response, “-but being with both of you has made me understand why someone would make such a sacrifice.”

“I vow my sword to you. I vow my thoughts, my voice, my shield, my armor to you. I vow to always take first watch and offer up the last ration. I, Hella Varal, will protect you both from any harm that it is within my power to do so. I vow to take arrows for you, and I vow to make sure I do not have to. ”

Hella paused, and a small smile crossed her face. She squeezed both of their hands quickly. “I vow to never rudely wake you in the morning before the sun has truly risen.”

Sabrina and Ren laughed.

Hella waited until they had quieted before she finished.

“I make this vow to you not for glory, but for love.”

She laid her red ribbon over Lem’s blue one. Hadrian nodded, proud, before turning to Fero.

Throndir handed Fero the green ribbon. It felt softer in his hand than he remembered, more fragile somehow. He ran his thumb along the the grain of the fabric, taking a deep breath.

Fero nodded to Hadrian, before doing an exaggerated gulp.

“I know I said I’d just, um, make it up when we got to here, but I, um-” He reached into his pocket with his free hand, unfurling a piece of parchment. "I had my dad help me write this. I wanted to get it right."

Hella nodded encouragingly, and Lem began to cry, softly, the way that Fero had so many months ago when Lem first played them the song he had written for the three of them. The parchment in Fero’s hand was shaking. Hella and Lem both reach out to cover his hand with their own although he wasn’t sure how much they helped. Fero could feel them trembling a little too.

Fero breathed once, twice. “Okay, okay.”

He stared at the floor for a few moment, looking up to make eye contact with both of them before looking back down at the paper.

"I know that I am an incredibly short person to be loved by two incredibly tall people, both metaphorically and literally. Halflings are taught from a young age that if you can’t be a statesman, at least be funny -- nobody wants to kill their jester, and I like being alive, a lot. But it became easy, after a while, to just makes jokes. To get by on a quick line and a smile and turning into birds and just going where the wind takes you. I know most people think that I'm incapable of being serious about anything -- and they’re mostly right -- but I guess that's because I was saving all my seriousness for after I met the two of you.”

Hella grabbed Lem’s hand. Fero smiled, damp eyed, at the both of them.

“Being serious about someone, about something, is such a new look on me that I worry that sometimes I will be seen as a different person. Like one day I will come home, to the two of you, and you won’t recognize me from the funny halfling you met so long ago. But Lem left the Archives, and Hella laid down her sword, and I still love you two for it. I love you even more now than when I first fell in love with you, which, by the way,” added Fero, looking up at them, “was a lot, way more than I thought I was capable of. So I guess maybe I have changed too.”

Hella began crying, wiping at her eyes with her free hand.

“I don’t think I could ever not love you two. And even if I stopped turning into mountain lions at inopportune times, or never told a joke again and became very intense about farming, I know that you two would still love me, too.”

Hella laughed, and Lem nodded vigorously.

“We would,” Lem said, and then made a face at himself for interrupting.

Fero laughed. “I wasn’t asking you to prove it, but it’s nice to hear all the same. Someone… someone I admire once told me that love is about giving yourself up, willingly, to someone else; to lay down your life for theirs. There’s no one else in this whole world that I know will change course for me, and I would willingly changing course for you two.”

Fero looked at Hadrian again, with his right eyebrow raised. Hadrian nodded, his eyes bright with tears.

“I know I said the official vows sounded boring, but, um, now that I’m here, I kind of- I’d like to say them. I, Fero Feritas, take both of you, Hella Varal and Lem King, to be my partners in life and name. During high and low tide, on long summer days and short autumn ones, in forests and mountains, on ships and carts, for as long as I live.”

Fero laid his ribbon over Hella and Lem’s, and Hadrian gathered both ends and twisted them together, tying the ribbons loosely around their hands.

It wasn’t as though Fero had never cared about anyone before these two. He cared about his family, he’d had lovers and best forest friends -- but these two. This... thing he had with Hella and Lem felt overwhelming; looking at them talk quietly to each other at the dinner table by firelight made him feel like he was drowning, already deep underwater before he even realised the waves had slipped over his head.

He remembered the first time he’d gone out on the ocean, how it never seemed to end and there was a moment where he felt sure that if he turned around, the shore would be gone. That such a big thing could be stopped by just too much sand in place (and he could become sand, he knew how malleable it could be) seemed impossible then and even more impossible now. Sand shifts, and you can’t rely on it for long.

Fero looked hard at the ribbons binding their hands together, even as tears blurred his vision. Now it felt as though when he turned around, they’d be at the shore telling him to come back in before he pruned up.

“I, Hadrian, Sword of Samothes etcetera, pronounce you three-.”

“Say our full names,” said Lem.

“You did promise you would,” said Hella.

“I pronounce you three, Hella King Feritas Varal, the Queen Killer; Lem Varal Feritas King, of the Archives; and Fero Varal King Feritas, Son of the Fields, Life of the Granite, Skin of the Mountain, of Foot, of Paw, of Hoof, of Claw, of Tooth and Maw...”

Hadrian paused, looking down at his notes.

“Very Handsome,” prompted Hella and Lem in unison.

Fero’s face matched the color of Hella’s bloodline, and he ducked his head.

“Very Handsome, Deserves the Longest Name;” Fero heard Ren and Sabrina laugh again, and he grinned. “I now pronounce you three bonded.”

Fero went up on his tiptoes as they bent down to kiss him. The sun peeked through the leaves and illuminated Hella, making her hair look like it was rays of the sun itself coming down to warm Fero through the cold winter. Lem’s hand was solidly at his side, keeping him steady and safe.

The silken fabric of the ribbons whispered against Fero’s skin like a promise.

Bonded.

----

Here is how Hella knew she was in love with Lem:

The sound of their blades rang out through the yard. She and Lem circled each other, eyeing each other warily. Sabrina and Fero watched from the shade of the porch.

It was, perhaps, not a very fair fight. Even holding back as she was, she had been fighting far longer in her life than Lem. His footwork was passable, but his grip was all wrong. If Hella had been facing him in a true fight she would have disarmed and killed him before he could have blocked her even once.

Still, she had offered to teach him. Better for her to disarm him in practise than for another Ordenan to do in a dark alley.

Lem swung at her, the twitch of his shoulders broadcasting the blow. Hella sighed, deflecting it easily. She had to restrain herself.

“Sorry,” said Lem.

“Don’t apologize,” said Hella, “we’re supposed to be doing battle.”

“Okay,” muttered Lem, “Battle.”

He adjusted the grip on his sword, straightening his shoulders. It would have been more intimidating if he hadn’t chosen an even worse grip than before. Also, Hella had woken to the sight of him snuggled into Fero that morning, and it was difficult to not think of his face soft in the early morning light as she looked at him now.

Lem swung at her again, with more force this time. Hella side-stepped it easily, and Lem stumbled forward, tripping over his own feet and dropping his sword. She caught his arm.

“Sorry,” said Lem.

Hella let out a long breath. “Why don’t we take a short break?”

“I don’t need a break,” said Lem.

“I think a break is a good idea,” called Sabrina, “Fero, could you help me in the kitchen?”

Fero made a face at the two of them. “Yeah, sure.”

“I’m not a child, Hella,” said Lem, crossing his arms, “I might not be as skilled in battle as you are, but I’ve kept myself alive this long.”

“You have spent most of that time travelling with someone who can turn into a cougar,” said Hella, “I think that probably gave you an advantage.”

“Even so,” huffed Lem. He paused. “I know you’re holding back.”

Hella raised an eyebrow at him. “Of course I am.”

“No, I mean, you’re drawing out the practise sessions by going easy on me,” said Lem, “I wish you’d just tell me what I was doing wrong.”

Hella pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay. Let’s start with your grip.”

Lem picked up his sword, and Hella motioned for him to hold it up en garde. She held up her own, then knocked it against his - not hard, but hard enough to twist it easily out of Lem’s grip.

Lem looked from his hand, to his sword on the ground, then back to Hella’s face. Hella gestured for him to pick up his sword, moving around behind him. She covered his hand with her own, adjusting his grip and guiding him through a slow sword swing.

“Was that… not how I was holding it before?”

“Not even a little,” said Hella.

Lem huffed a laugh.

“Think of it as being like,” Hella paused, thinking, “like your violin bow. There’s a right way and a wrong way to hold that, isn’t there?”

Lem nodded.

Hella breathed, trying to concentrate on the placement of her hand on Lem’s own, to teach him that, like throwing a punch or bowing a violin, you had to keep a firm wrist but loose finger placement. It was difficult, however, to not pay attention to the sweat running down his neck, disappearing under his collar. Difficult to think of things besides stopping this lesson and to things more enjoyable to both of them. Hella took a step back.

“Okay, okay. Uh, from the beginning. We’ll go slower this time, just give me a one, two and then try to swing down on me, with um, your-”

Hella stuttered as Lem stretched his arms above his head. A sliver of skin showed as he did so, and she could see a bruise that she had left earlier that morning, in entirely different circumstances. She forced her eyes back towards Lem’s face. He looked far too pleased with himself for the stretch to have been accidental.

“My sword?” said Lem, smirking.

Hella nodded and swallowed hard. Lem moved back towards her, fitting their bodies together as he kissed her lightly. She relaxed into the motion for a moment, then tensed.

Hella shook her head, pushing at his shoulder. “No distracting me while I have my sword in my hands, Lem!”

Lem laughed and nodded, stepping back and getting back into position. They did a few more rounds.

Hella made notes like,

“You own your instrument, make it work for you.”

and

“Let your movements lead your blade.”

Lem nodded enthusiastically every time, improving slowly but steadily. Hella was still going easy on him, but Hella thought it was better to slowly turn up the heat than anything.

Finally, Fero came back out, poking his head out to tell them that Sabrina and him had made lemonade and that it was time to quit for the night before disappearing back inside. Hella nodded and sheathed her blade, Lem still behind her.

She turned to congratulate Lem on a session well done, but before she could she was slammed into from behind, her eyes covered. Hella drew her blade again, and swung blindly behind her. Lem cried out.

Hella froze. She spun around, and Lem was on the grass, blood coming out of his left bicep from the wound she’d made. Hella dropped down to him, her hands hovering over the wound for a moment before she took her shirt off. She began tearing it into strips, her hands shaking. On the battlefield, this is what she had done hundreds of time.

She must of had something to this effect out loud, because Lem put his right hand over where hers were starting to wrap bandages over the cut.

“Hella, Hella.”

She did not stop.

“Hella, stop!” Lem said, more firmly this time, pulling her hands off of his arm.

Hella shook her head. “You’re injured, it’s my fault, I’m fixing it.”

Lem moved her hands so they were on his shoulders, making Hella meet his eyes. Lem kissed her, but her hands still fidgeted to finish what little first aid she knew.

“Hey, hey,” said Lem, still using that same firm tone, “It’s just a scratch. I’ve had worse. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay.”

Hella shook her head, and began wrapping his arm again. “I can’t believe I attacked you, that never should have happened. And what were you thinking jumping on me like that?!”

Lem laughed, a high pitched sound. “I wanted to see if I could really hold my own against the Queen Killer.”

Hella winced at her title coming out of his mouth when his blood still dripped on the ground beside them.

“That’s right, I’m the Queen Killer. And now I’m also the King Killer, too. Is there anyone who’s better at anything than I am at killing?” she tried laughing, but it sounded a million miles away.

Her vision blurred, and she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand quickly, not wanting Lem to notice.

“Hey, Hella. Hella, look at me,” said Lem, his voice soft now, “You’re not the Queen Killer, not to me, okay? You’re Hella Varal, who likes too-burnt toast, and hums along with me when I sing without realising it, and enjoys rock candy when the twin moons speak to you.”

“I like the feeling of eating rocks!” Hella said, defensive.

Hella felt as though she was coming back into her body. She began to feel Lem’s skin under her hands, her eyes managing to focus on something other than his blood.

“You’re like that rock candy, Hella: pretty in the light, scary to teeth, but sweet as sugar on the inside.”

Hella rolled her eyes, but Lem had begun to regain some color in his cheeks, and he was smiling up at her.

“I suppose I’ll have to take it,” said Hella, “The battlefield is all about small victories.”

Lem kissed her again, his hand brushing through her hair. He leant their forehead together.

“This is not a battlefield,” said Lem, “This is our friend’s backyard. You’re safe, I’m safe, Fero is safe. We’re going to go inside and drink lemonade and Fero is going to tell a bad, completely unfunny joke and we’re both going to laugh too much anyway because we’re so incredibly in love with him.”

Hella nodded again, feeling a little surer. “You would make a good battle commander: Calm under pressure.”

Lem shook his head. “Not everything has to be a fight, Hella. You are not a sword, you are a person with a sword. Let your movements guide your blade, right?”

Hella nodded and Lem stood, offering her his hand to help her up. When he pulled her up, the motion pulled her against his body. She rested her head against his chest for a moment, listening to his heart beat.

“Please don’t tell Fero I accidentally almost killed you,” Hella said, keeping her hand in his, a lighthouse in a bad seastorm.

“Tell Fero about what?” Lem said, winking.

Hella relaxed, letting out a long breath.

“Besides,” said Lem, “I think he’s probably going to be too distracted by the fact that you’re not wearing a shirt.”

Hella blinked. “Oh. Right. I’ll have to ask Sabrina to lend me something for the walk home.”

“I’d lend you mine but I think it would cause the same problem,” said Lem.

Hella laughed. “Probably.”

Lem pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

----

It had taken a while to get people out. Hadrian and Sabrina followed after Lem, Hella, and Fero as they made their way through the party, herding people towards the door after they said their goodbyes. Sabrina and Hadrian were the last to leave.

Sabrina smiled. “We’ll see you tomorrow to do it over again in a more formal setting.”

“Ugh,” said Fero, “can’t we skip it?”

“No,” said Sabrina, and Hadrian in unison.

“Besides,” said Sabrina, teasingly, “don’t you want to get married to them again?”

Fero flushed slightly. “Fine.”

They waved to Hadrian and Sabrina from the doorway. Once the door was closed, Hella leant her back against it, clicking the lock in place.

“Well,” said Hella.

“Well,” said Lem.

“Well,” said Fero, “Now I guess we go to bed?”

Lem and Hella looked to Fero. There was a pause, and Fero blushed. Hella laughed, setting off Lem and Fero too.

“Alright,” said Hella, sounding pleased, “Let’s go to bed.”

She grabbed the collar of Fero’s shirt and Lem’s shirtsleeve and pulled them up the stairs towards their bedroom. They followed her eagerly, still chuckling.

Lem pushed Fero’s suspenders off his shoulders as they entered, his hands shaking a little as he undid Fero’s buttons. It wasn’t easy to get a grip on them -- they were halfling-sized buttons, and Fero was half turned, trying to unfasten Hella’s pants. Hella wasn’t helping him much either, she was leant over Fero, trying to push Lem’s shirt off his shoulders.

“Wait, wait,” said Lem, after a moment of struggling, “We have got to do this a better way or we’ll be at this all night.”

“We have all night,” said Fero, his hands still working at the fastenings of Hella’s pants. “We have to rest of our lives actually, because we’re married.”

Lem swallowed hard, looking over the top of Fero’s head at Hella. She put her hand on Fero’s head, stilling his movements, and he looked up at them both.

“We’re married,” said Hella, something like awe in her voice.

Lem nodded.

“And we’re going to get married again tomorrow,” said Fero, “I wonder if it feels any different the second time around.”

Hella curled her hand in Fero’s hair. “What did it feel like for you this time?”

Fero blinked up at them, his face going serious and still. “Like the most important and right thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

Lem bent down, pulling Fero towards him by his shirt to kiss him. He felt Fero gasp into the kiss, and then gasp again as Lem lifted him up and walked them both towards the bed. Lem could feel Hella’s hand on his shoulder, guiding them. She kissed down his neck and along his shoulder, pulling at his shirt to expose more skin.

He dropped Fero onto the bed and climbed on top of him, his legs bracketing Fero’s sides. Hella hooked her head over his shoulder, her body warm against his back as she smirked down at Fero. Fero squirmed, and Lem bit his lips at the friction.

Hella moved to Fero’s side, kissing Fero deeply as she worked at his shirt buttons. Fero squirmed again, and this time Lem shifted his hips back and forth. Fero gasped, breaking off the kiss, his hands clutching at Hella’s shoulder and Lem’s thigh.

Hella pushed the shirt off Fero’s shoulders and Fero wriggled out of it, giving Lem a small smirk as Lem gasped, hips moving against Fero’s movement. Hella kissed Fero again, running her hands down his chest, pausing as they reached Fero’s sides.

It took a moment for Lem to realise what she was looking at - the faint scar along Fero’s side from their battle against the wood bandits. It was faded now, not much more than a raised line.

“Does it hurt?” said Hella, quiet voice loud in the stillness of the room.

Fero raised his head to look at her. “It did when I got it, but not anymore.”

Hella brushed her fingers along it, and then her lips. Fero watched her, swallowing hard. His hand was still clutching her shoulder, his fingers twisting in the fabric.

“I will never let either of you be hurt like that again,” said Hella, looking from Fero to Lem.

Lem bent to kiss the small scar on Fero’s side, and then Hella’s lips.

“We’re adventurers, Hella,” said Lem. “We’re going to get hurt again. We’re handsome, devilish rogues who court danger.”

Fero laughed, but Hella still looked stern.

“I don’t like it, though,” Hella said, continuing to run her fingers lightly over the scar.

Fero ran his hand up and down Lem’s thigh in time with Hella’s movements, and Lem felt his breath stutter in his throat. He tilted her face towards him to kiss her again, and she leaned into him, her hand resting on his chest over his heart. Lem wondered if she could feel how fast his heart was beating. When they broke apart for air, Lem rested his forehead against hers.

“What matters is that you’re there to bandage the wounds,” Lem said, trying to pull her out from wherever she had gone for the moment, desperate to not make her sad before they had to put on airs for hundreds of people.

“Also, I like it when you kiss them better,” Fero said lightly.

He ran his hand down Hella’s side, tangling their fingers together, before pulling at their joined hands to bring Hella down to a better angle for a kiss.

Hella laughed into his lips, and Lem was, as always, grateful to have Fero by his side. Or underneath him, as it were. Lem shifted his hips again and Fero gasped again, pawing at the waist of Lem’s pants.

“I can’t believe we’re all still wearing clothes,” gasped Fero.

“Well, as you said,” said Lem, “We’ve got all night.”

----

Fero flew over the city. Below him, somewhere, Lem was wandering through the streets of Velas as he asked curious questions of the city residents, and Hella, visiting Hadrian and Sabrina. There were many other people too of course, all busy with their own lives, but these were the most important ones.

They’d both asked him if he wanted to accompany him, but there were still times when Fero liked to be alone. Not too often, and it was nice to know he had Lem and Hella to come home to instead of an empty tree hollow, but still. It was good to be alone sometimes, to know that he could still be alone if he had to be, even if it wasn’t as fun these days.

He landed in one of the small alleyways of the marketplace, transforming back into a halfling. He could have stayed a bird, but that tended to get him swatted at when he was around food stalls. That was probably fair, since market stall owners couldn’t know he didn’t need to eat any of their wares.

A pair of Velasian city guards were circling the square as Fero made his way out of the alley, still mostly obscured from their view by a large crate of pears at one of the stalls. After a moment, he peeked his head around the crate to look at them. The two guards were examining each stall, looking over the produce with a careful eye. The stallholders didn’t seem too wary of them, pointing to different items, and the guards would either shake their heads or have a short conversation with each other before moving on to the next stall.

The two guards moved closer, and as they did so Fero could hear their conversation: discussing the pros and cons of eating at the various market stalls.

Oh yeah, thought Fero, looking up to try and judge the sun’s position, I suppose it probably is that time of day.

As they moved past him, Fero stayed where he was. He looked down, pretending to examine the crate. The Velesian guards had been on his side of things when Hella had needed back up against Ordenans, but that didn’t mean he trusted them. It had been a while since he’d actually been in trouble with the law, not since he’d been in Rosemerrow (which was barely worth mentioning -- everyone who grew up in Rosemerrow had a brush with the law eventually), but still. Old habits, and all that.

The guard’s talk turned from food to gossip as they hovered by the pie cart close to where Fero was, discussing the vanishing presence of Ordenan officials in the city.

“And you know what caused it, don’t you?”

The other seemed to consider it for a moment. “Consolidating for war, is what the Sarge said.”

“No- Well,” the man scrunched up him face. “Yeah, maybe. But I meant the other thing.”

“What other thing?”

The first guard motioned for the other to lean in, looking around as if to make sure they weren’t overheard. Fero edged closer, straining to hear over the noise of the marketplace.

“You know,” said the first guard, “the Varal-Feritas-King incident.”

Fero froze.

“Oh,” said the other guard, drawing out the sound, “that thing. You think they’re afraid of Queen Killer Varal?”

The first guard chuckled. “Oh yeah. She was something to see.”

“You were there?”

“Well,” the first guard rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t, but one of our guys, Carn, they were, and they said she could have taken them all down single handedly.”

The two guards began to trade fragments of stories back and forth about what had really happened that night down by the docks. Fero listened to the rhythm of the stories with half an ear, mostly out of practise from travelling with Lem for so long, his mind still caught on the fragment of words one of the guards had said earlier.

Varal, Feritas, King.

No, the way the guard had said it had been different, more like… more like…

Varal-Feritas-King

Fero mouthed their names together to himself as he replayed the guard’s words in his mind. His heart was fluttering in his chest as though he was still a bird, having to fight against a strong wind. The guard had said their names quickly, so they seemed to flow together as one name.

Fero swallowed hard, pulling his sleeves over his hand and twisting his fingers in the fabric, trying to calm his breathing.

The Feritas family had never been particular politically-minded. Oh, they’d had a would-be mayor or two in the family somewhere along the line (what family in Rosemerrow hadn’t?), and there was always the occasional uncle or aunt who picked up an additional name or two along the Feritas family tree.

It had always seemed needlessly showy to Fero, like coating rocks in gold paint -- you knew they were still just a Feritas with an addition, just like you knew it was just a rock under that shiny paint. There were uses to have another name or two sure, just like there might be uses for a chunk of fake gold, but Fero had never really seen the use in either thing in his own life.

Still.

Their names sounded nice, together like that.

----

After their real wedding the evening before, preparing for the official ceremony seemed easy. Or rather, it didn’t matter what annoyance, large or small, was placed in front of them, it felt as though they glided right past it. The closest thing Hella could compare it to was being in battle and knowing, as you swung your sword at an enemy, that you were winning. This was a quieter feeling though, full of soft glances and gentle hands instead of adrenaline.

She kept making eye contact with Lem and Fero, only to have to quickly look away, a giddy feeling bubbling in her chest. She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

“What?” said Fero, as the three of them waited for their wedding regalia to be prepared.

A burble of laughed escape Hella. “Sorry I just- we’re married.”

“I know,” said Fero, “I was there when it happened.”

They stared at each other for a moment, lips pressed together, trying to keep from laughing.

Hella broke first, a snort of laughter escaping her. She held onto Lem’s shoulder for support. She could feel his shoulder shaking as he laughed. Fero pressed his forehead against her side, giggling.

“I’m glad you’re all having such a good time,” said Sabrina wryly. “Ready? Doesn’t matter. It’s time,” she said.

Sabrina ushered them to the entrance of their wedding chamber, quietly walking to her place near the entrance, signaling the musicians to begin their medley of traditional tunes (composed specifically for the occasion).

They tried to be more solemn as the ceremony began, standing together and waiting for their cues to walk down passed the many rows of strangers. The music changed and Hella squared her shoulders, readying herself.

“It’s sort of nice to be able to marry you both again,” said Lem.

Fero hummed. “I think I’ll like it more when we’re just married.”

The burbling feeling swelled up in Hella’s chest, making it hard to speak.

“I know what you mean,” she managed to say.

Sabrina poked her head out, gesturing them forward, and then it was time for the ceremony to begin in earnest.

Even with all the trappings, during the vows Hella felt it all fall away, her focus wholly on Fero and Lem in front of her, watching as Hadrian wound the ribbons around their joined hands once again.

“Well,” said Fero, quietly, so that only she and Lem could hear him, “second time’s the charm.”

Hella pressed her lips together to suppress a laugh.

After, they greeted a parade of people, most of whom Hella recognised from their pre-wedding parties. She shook hands, and tried to find something nice (or at least something neutral) to say about each gift they were presented with.

Throndir and Red Jack were last in line, and Hella smiled tiredly at them. Red Jack was smiling widely, his hand on Throndir’s shoulder. Trailing after them, almost hidden behind Red Jack, was Fantasmo.

“I thought the two of you would be too busy dancing to come say hello,” said Fero teasingly.

Throndir blushed faintly and Red Jack laughed, a booming sound.

“Plenty of time for that,” said Red Jack.

“We have something for you,” said Throndir, “it’s not much, but…”

Fantasmo stepped forward, holding it out to them. It was a decorative wooden shield, and now that Hella was holding it, she could see that carved into it were three objects - a sword, a book, and a bird. Her throat felt tight.

Fero put his hand on Hella’s arm, peering closely at the carvings. His fingers lightly touched along the wing of the carved bird. “This is… Did you make this?”

Throndir nodded. “I did the carving and Red Jack helped me do the varnish,” Red Jack beamed at Throndir, “but Fantasmo did the design. It was his idea.”

Fantasmo coughed. “Well. You have new names. I thought having a new crest to match seemed… appropriate.”

Lem looked from Fantasmo to the shield, his eyes wide as he traced a finger along the spine of the book. Hella’s eyes travelled over the carved sword, positioned above the book and bird, protecting them.

“I realise it is not as fine as the other gifts you have received-”

“No,” said Hella quickly, “this is… thank you.”

Fantasmo nodded, turning and quickly walking away.

Sabrina had organised everything down to the minute, even going so far as to sort out how they would store and transport the gifts.

“I know how much of a hassle these things can be,” said Sabrina, “and you probably won’t have much use for most of these things anyway. Is there anything you want to take with you to have while you’re here?”

Hella exchanged a look with Lem and Fero. “Just the one.”

She kept the shield tucked under her arm as they left.

----

Hella felt a flutter of nervous energy as she approached Hadrian and Sabrina’s home, taking a deep breath before she knocked on the door. She clasped her hands behind her back, and waited. Lem and Fero had offered to come with her, but this was something she wanted to do herself.

“Hella!” said Sabrina, smiling, “This is a surprise! I thought you would still be enjoying your reunion.”

Hella felt herself flush. “I-” She cleared her throat. “Something happened, and it’s kind of important, and I wanted to tell the both of you before I- before we told anyone else. Can I come inside?”

Sabrina’s smile widened. “Sure.”

She led Hella into their kitchen. “Hadrian’s out back with Ben, did you want me to go get him?”

Hella tapped her fingers along the back of one of the chairs. “I- yeah.”

Sabrina reached out and squeezed one of Hella’s hands before disappearing out into the back garden. Hella took another deep breath, trying to squash down the twisting-fluttering feeling in her stomach. She sat down at the table, tapping her fingers against the polished surface.

The pattern reminded her of a song Lem had played that morning, and she smiled, suddenly feeling a great deal more centered.

Hadrian followed Sabrina into the kitchen, looking concerned. Hella stood up quickly.

“Hella, are you okay? What’s happened?”

“I-” Hella began, then paused. “You might want to sit down.”

“Did F- did one of them do something?”

Sabrina put a hand on Hadrian’s arm, stilling him.

“It’s… just sit down, okay?”

Hadrian sat, and then immediately leant forward, his arms reaching across the table to take Hella’s hands.

“If they’ve done something-”

Hella couldn’t help it: she laughed, putting a hand over her mouth. Sabrina, seated to Hadrian’s left, also laughed, pressing her face into Hadrian’s shoulder.

“Perhaps,” said Sabrina, managing to get herself under control, “perhaps you should let Hella speak first, before you charge out to defend her honour.”

“I-” Hadrian let go of Hella’s hands, looking slightly embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” said Hella, “I mean, we’re definitely going to have to need to have a talk about why you keep assuming Lem and Fero are terrible, but it’s fine, it’s more than fine actually. We’re, um, we’re getting married.”

“You’re-” said Hadrian, “I- What?”

“Hella, that’s wonderful,” said Sabrina, beaming across at her.

Hella thought she might be wearing a similar expression. Her face almost hurt from smiling so hard. She hadn’t really been able to stop.

“I admit,” said Sabrina, “I thought that might be it. You had that look about you when you came to the door.”

“What look is that?”

“It’s a little hard to describe,” said Sabrina, “but I see it in the mirror most days, so I know.”

Sabrina twined her fingers with Hadria’s. He looked from their joined hands, to Sabrina, and then back to Hella.

“Are you… okay?” said Hella, laughing a little at Hadrian’s shocked expression.

“I’m… I just… How? When?”

Hella laughed. “Fero. He asked me and Lem almost as soon as he walked in the door.”

“Oh,” said Hadrian.

“Yeah,” said Hella, biting her lip to try to contain a grin at the memory.

“Well,” said Sabrina, “we’re both very happy for the three of you.”

“I… Yeah, I mean…” Hadrian seemed to shake off some of the shock a little. “Yes, we are.”

“Well, it’s good to hear you say that,” said Hella, “because there’s something else I need to ask of you.”

“Anything,” said Hadrian.

Hella bit her lip for a moment. “How do you… how do you plan a wedding?”

Sabrina laughed, delighted. “We can definitely help with that. I think… hmm, I think I might still have my planning book somewhere from our wedding. Let me go and check.”

She kissed Hadrian on the cheek and headed out of the kitchen. Hadrian watched her go and then slowly turned back to Hella, looking serious.

“Hella…”

“What?” said Hella, “I know you don’t- that you’re not exactly the biggest fan of… but I was hoping that you’d treat this a little less like I was headed for the executioner's block.”

Hadrian rubbed a hand over his head. “I don’t mean to be. I just… marrying Sabrina was one of the best things to happen to me, and you made that happen, and I always thought that if you ever married that I’d…” He sighed. “I suppose I always thought I’d be as much of a help to you in that regard as you had been to me.”

“I just introduced the two of you, that’s barely anything,” said Hella.

“It was the start of everything,” said Hadrian, “and I owe you for that.”

“You don’t owe me for anything,” said Hella, “just… be at the wedding. Be happy for me, and for Lem and Fero too.”

“I… of course I’ll be there,” said Hadrian.

“And the being happy for us part?”

“Sure,” said Hadrian.

Hella gave him a look.

“I am!” said Hadrian, “I… Hella, listen” he reached across the table and took her hands again. “If Lem and Fero make you even half as happy as Sabrina has made me, I will speak their praises until the end of my days.”

Thinking of Lem and Fero felt like the warmth of the sun sinking into her chest, and Hella smiled down at their joined hands.

“They do make me happy,” said Hella, “very happy. They’re- if this is how you and Sabrina feel all the time, I understand now why you’re both so...”

“What?”

“Embarrassing,” said Hella.

Hadrian laughed. “I suppose we are.”

“You definitely are.”

“Well then,” said Hadrian, smiling across at her, “May we both have many embarrassing years ahead of us.”

----

They had been moved to a new room, courtesy of the visiting Rosemerrow chancellor, for their honeymoon suite. Fero was sure that it was a beautiful room, but he did not see much of it that night as the three of them sleepily undid the buttons on their shirts, and helped Hella take the pins out of her hair, too tired to even light candles to help them see.

The three of them did nothing more unchaste than exchanging lazy kisses, that became long and sweet only in the fact that they were much too tired to do anything except kiss. Eventually they fell asleep, a tangled mess of limbs and half removed underclothes and still-gelled hair.

Fero woke up slowly, which was by far his favourite way to wake up. He was lying mostly on top Lem, one arm over Hella’s side. He could feel the vibration of them talking, their voices soft. He looked up at them, resting his head on Lem’s chest. He could feel Lem’s heartbeat under his chin, a steady pattern.

“Good morning,” said Fero.

“Good morning,” Lem answered.

Lem shifted Fero’s body upwards, so he could kiss him. Hella ran her hand through Fero’s hair and he leant into her touch.

“We were just talking about what we should do today,” said Lem.

“We can’t just do this?” said Fero.

Lem rolled his eyes. Hella laughed, pulling Fero towards her. She kissed him softly, first on the lips, then on his forehead.

“We’re married,” said Hella, “I think we’re supposed to go out and do married people things.”

“Again,” said Fero, moving forward to kiss her again, “we can’t just do this?”

After they broke apart, Hella looked at Lem. “He makes a compelling case.”

“I think I need to hear all the evidence before I can make a decision on this,” said Lem.

“I’m pretty confident I can convince you,” said Fero, moving to kiss Lem.

This kiss was a little longer now that Fero was more awake. Lem cupped the back of Fero’s head, his hand a warm weight. Fero sighed into the kiss, his hands clutching at the collar of Lem’s shirt.

Hella’s hand moved in between them, undoing Lem’s shirt buttons until she reached Fero. She palmed at him through the fabric, and he gasped, hips moving forward against Lem’s stomach.

“Well, you’ve got our votes, Fero,” said Hella, “Now what exactly is your plan.”

Fero grinned. “Well-”

Hella pressed the heel of her palm against him and Fero broke off with a gasp.

“Well?” said Hella, smirking.

“It’s- I’m- I can’t- Hella,” gasped Fero, “How can I tell you what my plan is if you keep interrupting me?”

Hella hummed. “I think I’ve got a good idea of what it is, what about you Lem?”

“I think I do,” said Lem, “Let me just test something.”

Lem ran his hands up Fero’s thighs to his waist and down again, moving Fero against him. Fero whined, hips grinding against Lem helplessly. He dug his nails into Lem’s chest, and Lem gasped.

Hella ran a hand down Fero’s back. “What were your findings?”

“He’s quite needy,” Lem answered, talking above Fero.

“Yes,” said Fero quickly, wanting their attention back on him, “Yes, I am, absolutely.”

“Hella, I think you should take pity on him,” said Lem.

“Yes,” said Fero, “Hella, please-”

Hella hummed. “I suppose, since you asked so nicely.”

She disappeared from Lem’s side for a moment, coming back with a small vial of oil. She pushed Fero down gently, so that he was touching chest-to-chest with Lem. Fero and Lem both gasped at the sudden friction.

“Hella,” whined Fero, drawing the word out.

“There’s no need to rush,” said Hella, “be patient.”

“I am patient,” Fero started to say, his words getting lost in a groan as Hella pushed a finger into him.

Lem put a hand on the side of Fero’s face, drawing his into a kiss and muffling his moans. Fero felt torn, wanting to lean further forward to deepen his kiss with Lem, but also wanting to push backwards onto Hella’s finger, trying to chase the feeling.

Fero broke off kissing Lem with a gasp as Hella added a second finger, letting out a stream of curses.

Hella stilled. “Okay?”

Fero pushed backwards. “Yes, just- please move.”

Hella chuckled, leaning forward to kiss Fero and she began thrusting her fingers. Fero groaned again, grinding his hips down onto Lem’s and then pushing back up onto Hella. Lem groaned, grabbing at Fero’s hip to pull him down again. Fero could feel Lem hard against him.

“Lem,” Fero gasped.

“Good idea,” said Hella, sounding a little out of breath, “Lem?”

“Hmm?” said Lem, sounding dazed. “Oh.”

Hella gave one last thrust with her fingers before withdrawing them. Fero whined at the loss of sensation.

“Patience, Fero,” said Hella while reaching for the jar of oil.

She stroked Lem slowly. With each movement of her hand Lem’s eyes would flutter closed and his hips would thrust up against Fero’s.

Fero squirmed. “Hella come on.”

“Yes, I’m all for patience, but I -” Lem gasped sharply, - I have to agree with Fero.”

Hella laughed. “All right. But I hope you remember how good I’m being.”

She put a hand on Fero’s hip, stilling his movements, and took Lem in her other hand, guiding them together. Fero sank down onto Lem, kept steady by Hella’s hand on his waist.

“Yes, we will, absolutely, I’ll remember,” babbled Fero. “You’re so good, Hella.”

Hella kissed him, wrapping a hand around him and pumping him in time with Lem’s thrusts. Ferp felt buoyed along by them, unable to do much more than grasp at Lem’s shoulders weakly. Lem seemed much the same, looking up at Fero and Hella with wide eyes, his hands twisting in Fero’s shirt.

Hella bent her head to kiss Lem, her hand still grasping Fero. Her other hand went to Lem’s hair, tangling her fingers in it to tilt Lem’s face more towards her. Lem arched into the slow kiss, the rhythm of his hips stuttering, moaning softly as he came.

Lem’s fingers touched lightly along Fero’s sides at the same time as Hella’s thumb brushed over the head of Fero’s cock. Fero groaned, feeling his already-heated skin flush. He hadn’t meant to be so loud.

Hella looked to Fero and grinned, repeating the motion. Fero opened his mouth to say something indignant, only to break off with a choked-off gasped as Hella did it again, this time using her other hand to grip his waist, pushing him back down onto Lem at the same time. Fero whined.

“Hella, I’m-” Fero managed.

He came, feeling wrecked and desperate. Hella kept him upright as he rode the aftershocks of the feeling, and he kissed messily along her shoulder. She tilted her head, giving him better access to her neck. His kissed became more targeted as he came back to himself, and Hella gasped softly.

Fero grinned, looking over to Lem. Lem smiled slowly, leaning forward to take Fero’s position as Fero crawled down Hella’s body. Fero hummed, hands grazing over the planes of Hella’s stomach as he settled between her thighs. He licked a stripe along her entrance, experimentally.

“Fero,” gasped Hella.

“Don’t worry,” said Fero, “I remember how good you were being.”

Hella laughed. “I was- oh.”

Her fingers dug into Fero’s shoulder as he mouthed at her. He ran his fingers lightly along the insides of her thighs, feeling them tremble. He stroked a finger along the same path as his mouth, smirking at Hella’s groan.

Hella must have felt the movement, and she broke off from kissing Lem to glare down at him. Fero looked up at her serenely, taking in her wild hair and flushed skin. He raised his eyebrows at her, running two fingers close to her, so that he was almost but not quite touching her.

“You-” began Hella.

“You’re right,” said Fero, nodding, “this should be a team effort.”

He reached for Lem’s hand. He kissed first the back, then the inside of the wrist, reveling a little in Lem’s soft gasp. Lem watched, hypnotized, as Fero sucked two of Lem’s fingers into his mouth. Fero brought Lem’s slicked fingers down with him, and Lem ran them along Hella’s entrance.

Hella moaned, pushing her face into Lem’s shoulder as Lem eased his fingers inside her. Fero took that as his signal, working his tongue alongside Lem’s fingers. Hella ran her hand through his hair, blunt nails scraping a little along his scalp. Fero made a pleased humming sound, and Hella moaned again.

“Oh,” Fero heard Lem say in a breathy voice, “the vibration. That’s interesting.”

Fero hummed again, picking the first tune that came into his head, the old Ordenan fisherman ballad Hella was so fond of. He could hear Lem humming it too, his voice muffled as he kissed down Hella’s neck and along her collarbone. Hella’s hand tightened in Fero’s hair. He could feel her muscles fluttering tight around his tongue and Lem’s fingers as she came.

Fero kissed the inside of her thighs before he climb back up the bed, collapsing in between Lem and Hella. They lay tangled together in silence for a moment, panting.

“You know,” said Fero, “I think could get used to this.”

Hella lent up on her elbow, grinning at him. “Me too.”

“I think I might already be used to it,” said Lem thoughtfully, running a hand over Fero’s side, his fingertips brushing against Hella’s stomach.

“Oh?” said Fero, “What’s that like?”

“It’s good,” said Lem, his cheeks flushing a little as he smiled at them, “I think I could probably keep it up for the rest of my life.”

Hella’s teasing grin softened, and she reached out and tangled their hands together. “That sounds like just the challenge for me.”

Fero could see, through the window at the opposite end of the room, the light of the sunrise. In the corner, the shield lay where Hella had left it. The light caught the varnish, making the design gleam. Fero took their joined hands, pressing a kiss to the backs of their hands.

“It doesn’t sound like a challenge,” said Fero, “It sounds like an adventure.”

[dragon-above]

Trolls of Eberron - Kaaryshk

A grey skinned troll stands over you with a look of superiority. Its metallic armour glints in the light, and a large collection of blades is strapped to its back. A wide drum hangs at its waist. The martial Kaarsyhk trolls retreated to the Ironroot Mountains after Kaarmagnul. Relatively untouched by Dhakaani, the area was thought ripe for troll conquest, but almost as soon as the trolls settled the region they met resistance from the orcs and ogres that already inhabited the region. Being the stronger race, the trolls secured their place in the mountains despite the conflict. Thousands of years passed as the trolls spread out and declared their dominance over the region now known as the Mror Holds. When the dwarves arrived, the trolls were surprised by the combined strength of the smaller folk. The small troll settlements, though powerful enough to keep similarly sized bands of ogres and orcs at bay, fell to the vast armies of the dwarven settlers, and the Kaaryshk tribes retreated to the high peaks of the mountains. Though the dwarves settled underground, the Kaaryshk found it difficult to maintain their lands, and dominance fell to their enemies. Unrest in trolls, ogres and orcs alike was quelled, and even the armies of the mighty Empire of Dhakaan were repelled. With the banishing of the dwarf clans, the Kaaryshk tribes strengthened their position again, taking part in the battles that lasted thousands of years. During this time, the trolls earned the respect of the dwarf barbarians, who soon developed techniques designed specifically to combat their larger, stronger foes. Such techniques have survived even to the present day. Despite the union of the dwarven clans under Karrn the Conqueror, the trolls remained defiant. Many were killed, for the third time forcing the Kaaryshk trolls to start from scratch in the Mror Holds. Though not as numerous and united as the Jhorash’tar orcs in the present day, the Kaaryshk trolls still command respect from the dwarves. The trolls harass the dwarven settlements from time to time, but most prefer to target ogres, orcs and even rival troll tribes instead. Some Kaaryshk tribes have even established ‘protection’ deals with the smaller dwarven settlements in return for well crafted weapons and armour. Traditions and Society As a martial culture, discipline and status are very important to Kaaryshk trolls. Their rules and strictly hierarchical clan structure makes them unusual among trolls, though not among the other Mror cultures, particularly the dwarves. Clans are lead by a single warlord, who then leads up to four captains. The captains lead any number of soldiers, each of them having a defined position within their squad. Scout, front-liner, support and drummer are common positions. Rarely do Kaaryshk clans reach a size where a further level of authority is needed. Kaaryshk trolls favour material possession much more than their cousins in the south. Almost every Kaaryshk troll carries a collection of blades taken from the dead or traded with other clans. Since the trolls still prefer to use their claws in combat, the blades are more a status symbol than a tool. As such, the leader of a clan can often be identified as the one carrying the most weapons on his back. Each troll usually carries a favoured blade, one which is used in blood rituals and the one taken if carrying many would prove impractical. Another love of Kaaryshk trolls is music. Troll music is usually slow and simple, rarely using instruments beyond various sizes of drums. Naturally, the trolls prefer large, bass drums to smaller designs such as bongos. Kaaryshk drum beats always accompany clans to war, and a clan’s chief drummer is a highly respected individual. Sometimes, a Kaaryshk clan’s drums can be heard from miles around, and even reach as far as the dwarven settlements. In the Mror Holds, mothers often threaten naughty children that the trolls will get them if they misbehave; a threat frighteningly supported when the slow beat of drums thunders from afar. Religion Although religion is not as important to Kaarysk clans as it is to the Byeshk tribes, it still exists within the culture. Most Kaaryshk trolls pay tribute to a triumvirate of gods known as the Sword, the Shield and the Dagger. The Sword leads the trolls in battle and grants them strength; the Shield teaches them to protect their clan and fight to the last; the Dagger sees to the schemes behind the battle. While the trolls honour the Sword and Shield through blood rituals, no such practise exists for worship of the Dagger. Instead, tribute is paid to the deity by the sacrifice of a prisoner before a battle begins, hoping such a gift will keep the Dagger’s schemes from themselves. Needless to say, Vassals claim the triumvirate aspects of Dol Dorn, Dol Arrah and the Mockery. More recently, many Kaaryshk trolls have been seduced by the Blood of Vol faith. With the Mror Holds bordering both the Lhazaar Principalities and Karrnath, the nations most accepting of the religion, it is only natural that the trolls became exposed to its teachings. Troll Seekers often consider themselves closer to divinity than other mortals, their regeneration being proof of this. The Crimson Covenant somewhat indirectly supports their claim, often sending missionaries to collect troll blood for transport back to Atur or Farlnen, though this may simply be due to the fact troll blood, even from a single Seeker, is available in such large volumes. Relations Kaaryshk trolls generally prefer to live in peace, on the condition that the other races still fear and respect them. Dwarf and Kaaryshk relations in particular are heavily strained, though all out war is something the trolls would prefer to avoid. With ‘protection’ deals and the odd small scale raid, the trolls ensure the dwarves do not forget to fear them, while also maintaining the balance. Any race, be it dwarf, ogre or orc, found trespassing on troll land, however, is likely to meet a swift end. Creating a Kaaryshk Troll When creating a standard Kaaryshk troll, consider changing the feats and skills of the usual troll to reflect the culture. Martial focussed feats such as Power Attack and Cleave are particularly appropriate. Since the Kaaryshk value armour, Light Armour Proficiency also adds to the design. Ranks in skills such as Knowledge (tactics) or even Perform (weapon drill) or Perform (percussion) can also enhance the character. Elite Kaaryshk trolls most often possess levels in the Fighter or Barbarian classes. Drum-beating Kaaryshk bards are also fairly common, and many are multiclassed bard/fighters. Many Kaaryshk bards take the Haunting Melody feat (ECS), enjoying inspiring fear in the enemy. Kaaryshk Feats The following feats can be used to further customise a Kaaryshk troll. BEAT OF THE CLAN [Bardic Music] Your knowledge of Kaaryshk drum beats has taught you how to unite your troops in a single, formidable force. Prerequisites: Bardic music, Perform (percussion) 6 ranks Benefit: Creatures under the effect of your inspire courage ability gain a morale bonus to Saving Throws against area effects equal to the number of allies within 10ft. of themselves. BEAT OF THE BLADE [Bardic Music] The Kaaryshk love of weapons resonates through your song. Prerequisites: Bardic music, Perform (percussion) 6 ranks Benefit: Creatures under the effect of your inspire courage ability become proficient with one martial or exotic weapon of your choice with which you are proficient. All affected creatures become proficient with the same weapon. If a creature is already proficient, he gains a +2 morale bonus on attack rolls made with that weapon. BLADE AND CLAW [Style] You combine claws with blades in a terrifying rending attack. Prerequisites: Troll, Str 26, Weapon Focus (any bladed weapon) Benefit: While using your favoured blade (of the type for which you have Weapon Focus) in one hand and attacking with a claw as a secondary natural weapon, you can rend (as the racial ability) a foe’s flesh if you successfully hit with both blade and claw in the same round. However, the extra damage dealt by the rend attack is instead equal to the weapon damage dice plus the claw damage dice plus 1 ½ times Strength bonus. For example, a troll with this feat wielding a large longsword would deal 3d6 + 1 ½ times Strength damage on a rend. Special A troll fighter can select this feat as a fighter bonus feat.

[akashamichelleblog]

Will Designers Be Replaced by Robots?

Adrian Shaughnessy, writer at the Creative Bloq, discusses how automated processes could threaten the role of the designer.

"During my time as a graphic designer, I've experienced nearly everything – short of physical violence – that working life can throw at you: recessions, legal disputes, defaulting clients, and of course, the thrill that comes with completing a successful project.

But two events – both of which turned the practice of graphic design on its head – stand out as life changing. The first was the arrival of the Macintosh computer. For all practising designers at the time, computerisation necessitated an extensive rethink of the craft: no more mechanical artwork, no more paste-up, no more typesetters, no more expensive retouchers. Many of the tasks previously done by repro houses were taken over by designers sitting in front of computer screens. It was the beginning of a new age of digital self-reliance and a period of massive reorientation. 

The second event was the arrival of the internet. Here was a new way of thinking about, and making design. Suddenly, designers no longer had complete control over how their work was received. The inability to control browser use, screen ratios and fonts had a decisive impact and old rules such as the number of characters per line length rule became redundant. Even the users themselves could mess with the appearance in ways unthinkable to designers trained in print design, where layouts were fixed once they left the designer's hand. 

Is VR the future of design?

These two events threatened to shrink the role of the designer, but the opposite happened. There are now more graphic designers and students than ever before. Design is a global industry embedded in, and inseparable from, business and culture. For many, graphic design is as much a lifestyle choice as a career choice. We do it because we love it.

The rise of automation

If design and designers can be said to have benefited from these two shocks in the long run, there are concerns that the craft and the profession might not survive quite so well. Is design about to meet its Uber moment? Is AI about to take on the role of the designer? Is the surge towards a fully automated world about to engulf design? 

It might seem that automating the design process is impossible. You might assume that the creative imagination is the least likely arena to be taken over by machines, that bots are for routine production, not conceptual thinking. In reality, the process is already underway.

"It might seem that automating the design process is impossible... In reality, the process is already underway"

Social media has usurped many of the roles previously done by designers. You can start a business with a Facebook page (or as one expert calls them "Facebook pages … the new small-business homepage"). For many, access to a Twitter or Instagram account is all the design they need.

The automation of countless realms of everyday life is already at an advanced level: entire factories are operated by robots; legal contracts and stock market trading are routinely done by bots; automated warehouses, ATMs, and user operated supermarket tills mean fewer jobs in industries once regarded as high volume employers; driverless vehicles signal the end for the millions of people who drive for a living. Why should design be any different? 

In the book, Inventing the Future, Nick Srnicek and Alex Williams state that: "anything from 47 to 80 per cent of jobs are likely to be automatable in the next two decades." They also note that the "roboticisation of services is now gathering steam, with over 150,000 professional service robots sold in the past 15 years. Under particular threat have been routine jobs – jobs that can be codified into a series of steps." 

The demise of web design

Surely this lets design off the hook? We can't expect machines to make the irrational, gravity-defying leaps of imagination that designers make, can we? What about the designer's ability to capitalise on accidents and unforeseen coincidences? Surely this sort of cognition is beyond the bot? 

Not so. We live under the dictum that anything that can be automated will be automated. And nowhere in the design world is this idea more advanced than in web design. In a post titled Why Web Design is Dead, on the website UX Magazine, designer Sergio Nouvel notes: "Most of the content you see on the web today is run by some framework or service – WordPress, Blogger, Drupal, you name it. Frameworks provide you a foundation and shortcuts so you spend less time struggling with the creation of a website, and more time creating content. As a consequence of the ubiquity of these frameworks, a world of free and paid templates lets you start with a professional-looking design in minutes. Why hire a web designer if you can achieve a fairly acceptable design for a fraction of the cost using a template?"

The Grid, a San Francisco and Berlin-based startup, was the first to announce that it has created a website builder that uses artificial intelligence. It enables users to upload images and text or make use of its library of colour combinations and images, and then, using AI, it performs all the key design functions: positioning of images, placement of text, selecting colours and sculpting a unique, customised website. The Grid says it doesn't use templates, but 'layout systems', which it claims offers greater flexibility.

With The Grid, if you don't like what you see, you hit the Redesign button and in seconds a different layout appears. The Grid's promotional video gives the impression of effortless, nearly instant success. It's a seductive pitch. But not everyone is impressed. 

Various webinars offer a less convincing glimpse into The Grid's AI approach to web design. Watching these critical takedowns, I was reminded of the early days of DTP design – gap-toothed typography and bitmapped images. But the painful DTP birthing phase didn't last long. Designers mastered the software, the software improved, and so did computing power. You wouldn't lose money betting on AI websites becoming much better in the future. 

A grit-free process

It's easy to see why clients would be attracted to this grit-free process. There's no more time spent listening to pesky designers defending their design decisions, no more waiting around for new designs to arrive. And here's the clincher: no more redesign fees. Instead, clients inhabit a fragrant world of endless iteration and seemingly limitless choice.

The Grid is not alone in its quest. In September 2016, the website Tech Crunch reported that Canva, a design platform for web and mobile, had announced a new infusion of $15 million in funding and a doubling of its valuation in 12 months. This added capital was reported to have brought Canva's valuation up to a whopping $345 million.

What makes Canva so attractive to the guys with the money is the fact that it can be used by non-designers. Canva claims it only takes 23 seconds to become a proficient user of its software. 10 million people are allegedly using it to design business cards, posters, presentations, and graphics for social media. 

Looking at the formulaic design featured on the site, it's hard to take seriously claims that 'anyone can become a designer' with Canva. It's easy to laugh at some of the work these sites post as examples – most of it looks as if it has been designed by someone on autopilot. But will we be mocking in five years' time? When we look at what is happening in AI, it seems foolish to dismiss attempts to automate design. 

AI-driven design

When I talk to designers about the likelihood of AI taking over the tasks of designers, I'm met with scepticism. But this strikes me as short-sighted. In a detailed account of Google's work in AI, published in the New York Times Magazine, the journalist Gideon Lewis-Kraus writes about the company's use of artificial intelligence to transform Google Translate. Anyone who has used the translation service will know that its results are hit and miss, always require correction, and are rarely idiomatically correct.

All that is changing. In its new AI-driven version, Google Translate is producing astonishing results. Developed by the Google Brain team, 'artificial neural networks' (much like those in our skulls) are offering an alternative to traditional computer programming and represent a move towards self-learning machines. Using these networks, robots can then acquaint themselves with the world via trial and error in the same way that children do, giving machines "something like human flexibility." 

Lewis-Kraus reminds us of Alan Turing's famous test for an artificial general intelligence: "A computer that could, over the course of five minutes of text exchange, successfully deceive a real human interlocutor. Once a machine can translate fluently between two natural languages, the foundation has been laid for a machine that might one day 'understand' human language well enough to engage in plausible conversation." 

If Google's new translation service is close to fulfilling Turing's criterion, then it's not much of a stretch to imagine AI tackling more sophisticated design problems than shifting elements around on a webpage. Most of the everyday design we encounter can be broken down into a simple set of principles that can be codified, and it seems highly probable that a machine can learn the rules of typography, the golden ratio and the rule of three. And it's no gamble to assume that cost-culling businesses will latch onto the money saving benefits of AI design. 

Adapt to survive

What should designers do? AI-driven design already has the potential to remove some, or most of the production based tasks that designers do. Need 100 web banners for a global ad campaign, all with different information and numerous different languages? No problem. Robots capable of handling such routine tasks will result in fewer design production people.

But will the sharp end of design be affected? Eventually, yes, and just as human beings have learned to do since the introduction of industrialisation, we must adapt. It's my belief that designers are well equipped to do this. Teaching flexibility and a willingness to learn may be the biggest challenge facing the world's design schools. 

In the information age, we may be looking at a world without paid work

Of course, this doesn't only apply to design. In the information age, we may be looking at a world without paid work. This takes us into the political realm, and subjects that governments are avoiding. It poses questions such as adopting a basic income, and the relearning that will be needed when the post-industrial world is replaced by one of unlimited leisure. These topics are discussed in academia and future-gazing think tanks, but we all need to be thinking about them sooner rather than later.   

Halfway through writing this, I had a sudden, sobering glimpse into a machine-driven world. My five-year-old iMac died. The screen went black, none of the usual remedies helped and it was Christmas, so there was no chance of emergency repairs. It was a personal mini-disaster. But this is what happens to machines: they break. Perhaps their fallibility is the only thing between us and an AI future.

This article originally appeared in Computer Arts issue 263; buy it here!

Source URL: Creative Bloq