Chapter Text
“Hey, Staelwyrn? I think the adventurer Baderon sent is comin’ up!”
Relief. That was the first thing that hit the former-pirate at those words, as he glanced up with the notice from one of his farm-hands. The sun was setting on the horizon, the day’s work coming to a close, but it shed a pretty back-drop for the new arrival as she approached. Soft purples, oranges, and pinks, complimenting the blue and teal of her travel clothes and the magick fox that bounded at her side as they came up the path. The sun-setting casting a glow about them.
‘Trionfi Fortuna,’ Baderon said her name was. Couldn’t miss her- a tiny slip of a mi’qote, an arcanist with a penchant for keeping her summon out. Dark hair streaked with blue, and each of her eyes a different color, pink and green. She’ll be shy at first, but she’ll work hard and brighten quickly, so take good care of her.
(The latter part had been said with some hint of a warning, even as the old seadog laughed it off some. But, Staelwyrn knew he wasn’t kidding.)
She stared in awe at the rows and rows of trees, un-heeding of the curious stares directed at her and of the direction she was heading in- Twelve, she’s gonna run in to somethin’ if she’s not careful- so he made his way to greet her at the gates. Front and center, and hard to miss.
Which seemed to be the right thing to do, since his movement caught her attention, and she turned that gaze of hers, pink and green, towards him. And then promptly squeaked before rushing up to meet him, stopping just short and dripping into an odd little curtsy. Her carbuncle plopping beside her and bending forward in turn. Like he was the bloody Sultana. And then, she spoke, her voice soft, quiet, shy as Baderon, had described.
“Good evening, ahh...” She glanced at a piece of paper in her hand. ”Sta... Staelwyrn?”
“Aye, and ye must be the adventurer that Baderon promised to send along. Thank ye fer comin’. We need all th’ help we can get.”
When Staelwyrn started his little corner of not-quite-paradise, he hadn’t expected it to come easily. Not after having spent nearly his entire life on the sea, swaying with her every curve and bending to her whims. The ocean was a mistress you feared, but he learned her ways- she had plenty and gave of her bounty so long as you showed her respect and weathered her tempers.
Land? There was a lady Staelwyrn needed guidance with- she had to be courted, to be dined and dressed before she would share her treasures with you. But, should you succeed, should you take care of her, she would gladly give and take care in turn, and you’d not need to worry a mercurial attitude in between. She could be stalwart and stern, but she would provide.
Going from rope burns to calluses from tools and tilling, salt sprays to mud and loam was a work in progress. But, he was still a Captain, even without a ship, and he had men and women to clothe, house, and feed- the Admiral gave him, all of them, a second chance, and he was determined to woo his new lady properly to make good on her deal.
Now, if ONLY his crew would stop making things even harder. They acted like it was the end of the world to listen to the botanists he’d brought on and harvest a few oranges. You would think after having lived in the aftermath of the Calamity, watching their ship get ripped apart by the resulting tides, would put things into perspective.
Which is why, out of desperation, he’d hoped his friend had someone with a firmer hand, a firmer drive who’d be willing to step in and help with catching them up. If not to get his crew to listen to orders, then to at least make it so that it wasn’t such an over-whelming list of tasks to handle when they left. On top of providing a bit of protection, what with the worrying rumors of the kidnappings happening there abouts, he knew it was a bit of a tall order to get someone out here who’d be willing to do farm work as well as a bit of guarding.
But, Baderon had promised. And here she was.
Pulling out of her little dip, she beamed at him.
“So he mentioned- and I’m sorry I’m a bit late. I have never been out for longer than an afternoon from town, so it took bit to get packed.”
“Well... ye made good on the old seadog’s word, so that’s good enough in my book.” He uncrossed his arms, motioning for her to move ahead of him. “C’mon, lass, let’s get ye and yer little friend settled in. Trionfi and Kiri, right? I don’t s’ppose he talked t’ ye ‘bout me much- ‘ol’ bastard’ is what he’d call me.”
There was a giggle that she held back, telling him, yes, Baderon said that, and he couldn’t help but laugh, too as he ushered her up the hill. He explained the farm, its birth, its rise, its troubles- she nodded enthusiastically, hanging on his little speech. It wasn’t a long one; just enough to let her know where they were coming from and why she was there to help, but it lasted the whole walk to the top of the hill, and she hadn’t lost interest so far.
The two of them turned, and he heard her breath catch, her eyes wide as she took in view. Staelwyrn had to admit, Summerford Farms made a pretty sight. The rows of tall trees dotted with oranges, like tiny little suns, just ripe for the picking, the fields of emerald grass stretching for malms beyond it, before reaching the distant ocean. Framed by the darkening horizon, violet fading in to black, and glittering with stars, the world seemed endless. But, nah- he had his corner here, and was content to keep it.
“Tomorrow, I’ll introduce ye t’ Gurcant and Bhridraeg. They’ll be teachin’ ye ‘bout what needs t’ be done ‘round th’ place.” She nodded again, and the little carbuncle jumped and draped itself about her shoulders like a scarf. As one, they turned to him. “But, fer now, we got a bed fer ye t’ settle afore dinner. Jus’ follow th-”
The door beside them slammed open, and his train of thought cut.
Of course, nothing’s ever easy, is it.
He pursed his lips. Even without turning, Staelwyrn knew exactly who it was that interrupted, who was leaving even as the smell of their evening meal was wafting out the kitchens and the rest of them were gathering for the night. Ignoring the questioning look of the little adventurer and her summon as she glanced to the side, he called out to the intruder.
“A bit late t’ be headin’ out, isn’t it, Sevrin.”
A huff. He sees Trionfi’s eyes narrow, and he can feel the press of a glare in their direction. No response, not that he expected one, as the blonde hyur shoved his way past them. Dressed in his old pirate gear, loose shirt and red bandana, he didn’t give any response, didn’t give any excuses. Just the slightest turn to look over his shoulder at them, at her, the Adventurer, with the dirtiest look the kid could muster, before he stomped off down the hill.
“Well...” Staelwyrn could feel a headache coming on. Rubbing his forehead as he watched the boy’s form walk out into the quiet night. “Ye can take the pirate away from th’ sea, but ye can’t take th’ sea away from the pirate. Some o' me strays tend to be th' worst of 'em.”
“...I can see why you asked for help.” Trionfi folded her arms, and he can see the resigned look in her eyes as she turned her attention back to him.
“Aye. Still think yer up fer it, lass?”
She smirked, giving him a wink and a shrug. “I’ll give it my best shot. Just don’t fault me if I end up smacking a few heads.”
“Lass, if ye can get any o’ them boyos in line some, I will double your pay and give ye the best damn report that not even th’ Admiral herself can ignore ye.”
~*~
Three days.
Three days, she’d gone from shy with a bit of sass to sparkling loud, becoming chattier as the days went on and she learned each job that needed doing. And while she had been clumsy at first, more than once nearly toppling off a ladder, she learned fast.
Of course, with this jump in enthusiasm, that revealed a trait best kept under wraps-
“Hey, Staelwyrn!” Her shout carried over the tress somehow. “’Orange’ you glad you asked me for help?”
As did the groans of everyone, and some ‘booing’ besides. And, as always, Bhridraeg is the loudest of her deniers, even as he fed her little carbuncle another slice of a freshly picked and peeled orange.
“Lass, it weren’t funny the first time, wot makes ye think it’s funny the next twenty?!”
“It’s a bloody classic, your humor’s just ‘sour’, Bhrid!”
“Staelwyrn, I think this one’s defective. Is it too late to return ‘er?”
“Awww, you won’t find a ‘bitter’ adventurer than me!”
But, terrible jokes aside, she seemed to give his botanists a bit of levity to their days, banding together and setting about their tasks with a bit more positivity. And his crew, while still reluctant, somehow were wrangled up in better time that he recalled them. Jobs were actually getting done in a reasonable amount of time. They were catching up, slowly but surely.
Though, she asked not to be sent back out to get the loam again. Someone had forgotten to check on the state of the aurochs and no one knew they were in a mating frenzy when she’d rolled by. Two hours later, and with nearly double the amount asked, she came back harried and out of sorts with a murderous look in her eyes and demands for a shower. *
She was given first dibs on dessert that night.
Through it all, he noted with increasing concern that Sevrin was getting dodgier. The boy had always been a little stiff, a little reluctant, but he seemed to get increasingly twitchy and rebellious lately. Especially after that first night when realized an adventurer was among them. Still sticking to his old pirate garbs instead of his farming ones, as if that meant the changes in their lives didn’t mean a thing to him. Disappearing without a word, and dragging his three partners in crime oft with him to hide in corners and avoid as many of their tasks as they could get away with.
Which, wasn’t very much, actually, not anymore- It took only the one time she was sent to search for them, before she was able to stay hot on their tails, pun very much intended. Her carbuncle, as expectedly efficient of one from Mealvaan’s Gate, hunted down her targets the moment it seemed to sense they’d wandered again, and bringing the fuming woman right after to scold them and drag them back. Ignoring their leers and snide comments in her own little way (her glare could melt the hull of a ship), and plowing right through their reluctance to get them back on track.
Staelwyrn wasn’t sure what sort of magic she was using to make it happen, but he wanted whatever it was she was on.
But, even with the small problems, he was still happy with the way things were turning out. They only had the lass for six days, and he was happy to see that they were making the most of it. Baderon had lucked out having this one show up, and he was more than prepared to write a glowing record for her after the job was done.
And as they rolled in to the fourth day, he hoped he wouldn’t have to call on her regarding the other part of the request. But, that would have been much too good to be true. Adventurers seemed to be lucky like that.
One of the farmhands came up to him, wringing his hands and shaking some as he approached.
“St...Staelwyrn?”
He spared him a glance, “What is it, lad?”
“There’s... there’s been sighting of some people spying on some of the workers.”
Slowly, he stopped. Frowning, and gave the nervous botanist a questioning look.
“’Spyin’...?’”
“Aye... it’s... it’s hard to see, but it looks like they... may be in the grotto... and they may have the... the blue-tattoos... of the Reavers, sir...”