Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was maybe mid to late evening on the Joyful Damnation - not really all that late - when Egbert, deep in his nightly meditation and prayers to La Vache Mauve, received a soft knock on his cabin door. It went unnoticed at first, as the paladin mused on his quest for atonement and also explosives, but the knocking slowly became more intrusive as he furrowed his brow in an attempt to block out the noise. His deity, however, had other advice.

“Go tend to that, child. There seems to be someone who needs you. Serve others before yourself. ”

Slowly opening his eyes, Egbert blinked directly at the candles in front of him, the faint after image of his cow god fading, before hefting himself up from his knees and turning curiously to the door of his quarters.

“Erm...hello?”

There was too long of a silence, so the dragonborn padded forward a few steps, waiting a couple seconds and asking again “hello?” and then proceeded to open the door. The figure out in the hall jumped, in an odd contradiction to the tall, somewhat imposing presence it normally struck.

“Uh...hello Dob.” Egbert, not known for being the most perceptive of beings, was at least able to pick up on the fact that his half-orc friend, normally in a chipper mood and with some strange idea in his mind, didn’t seem to be fulfilling his usual MO. “Is there....something I can help you with?”

Dob was fidgeting with the fur around his collar, a happy supplier to a nervous tick if there ever was one. His eyes darted up and became fixated on a particular point in the ceiling. “Hhh - hi Egbert.” He cast his vision down, making direct eye contact for a second before staring at the ground. “Um....can - can I talk to you?” In a small whisper, almost impossible for him to hear, “With the door closed?”

Egbert raised a brow, a mix of confusion, suspicion, and curiosity. “Sure? Okay.” He took a few steps back, allowing Dob entry to his small cabin, who was of enough presence of mind to close the door behind him. The room was sparsely decorated, as Egbert didn’t exactly have too many worldly possessions, but he rather liked it. His formerly occupied corner with altar to La Vache Mauve was currently the only source of light, which he chose to quickly rectify by huffing on a few more candles and his bedside lamp. 

Sliding the glass back into place, Egbert cast a glance at his guest, who was once again staring into the distance. But there was something different about his look this time. There was a haze over his eyes, a warm smile crossing his cheeks and an almost dopey aura to him. 

“What can I do you for?”

Just like that, Dob snapped from his stupor, shaking his head with one tremor and inhaling. “Egbert. How...How do I be a good boyfriend?”

Egbert widened his eyes, grinning awkwardly. There were many, many fields he was not an expert in, but this one was pretty well and good outside his grasp. “Um….I’m a priest.”

Dob sighed, running a hand through his controlled mop of hair and rustled it anxiously. “Yeah....Yeah I know...I just…” He closed his eyes, huffing through his nose. “I don’t want to ask Corazon, he’d just make fun of me.”

“Yeah, you are kind of a nerd.”

Dob’s brow twitched, but he kept his eyes closed. “I just want to be everything Merilwen could ever want or need and I’m thinking that might be hard.”

There was a silence as the dragonborn tried very much to understand the sentence he just heard. “D...” He squinted, raised his head, put a clawed finger to his chin, and waited one more moment before answering. “Was that….sarcastic...or...”

Dob blinked, his eyebrows raised high. “No?” His eyes grew wide in a genuine state of shock. “I should be everything she wants or needs.” His fingers began to twitch, which he remedied by drawing his hands back up to his fur collar and picking at it with increased speeds. “She’s an elf! Elves are perfect and amazing. You saw her hometown, all those elves. All those cheekbones.”

Egbert briefly recalled the wood elf, the cousin of his crewmate, who seemed rather sweet on him. Lily. She had another name, but that was one easier to remember. “Sure.”

“A-and.” Dob began rolling the fur in his hands. “They’re so...elfy! All elegant and magical and wise and o-old.” He seemed to be struck by another thought. “Gosh, Merilwen is so much older than me. I forgot about that. Oh. Oh gosh.” He began to pace in the small area allowed to him, a few steps in one direction before going back again. “She’s so wise."

“Is she though?”

“And has so much experience.”

“Talking to trees, maybe.”

“And surely has had...others…”

“Well, cats, at least. One cat.”

Dob jerked to a halt, shooting a glare at Egbert, his cheeks puffed in irritation. “She did not date a cat!” The look of annoyance dropped completely and for a few seconds, the usual earnestness of the bard took over. “I asked her and she had that look like she couldn’t believe I was speaking, which she doesn’t do all the time, but believe me I’ve filed that one away for future reference.”

Egbert took a step back before looking behind him. His previously occupied floor pillow for prayer seemed like a better idea than standing and facing the disparate emotions of his friend. “Would you...care to sit down and have a chat?” 

He made a move to offer Dob the pillow, but the half-orc merely nodded before immediately folding his legs together and sitting on the bare floor, hands perched on his knees. There was now a blazing look of determination in his eyes as Egbert took his place on his pillow, kneeling in a more relaxed fashion. Dob continued staring at him from under his brow, blue eyes digging into him while Egbert proceeded to lift an ornate metal lid from a decorated bowl.

“You know,” he started, reaching for a small cloth bag near the back of the altar, “You are a follower of La Vache Mauve.” He darted his eyes over to Dob, which seemed to startle the half-orc from his previously rock-solid glare. “The one success I’ve had so far.”

“W-well.” Dob, now returned to the backfoot, shrugged. “You see a sky cow and get rescued from death you’re not going to reject that sign.”

“See! He’s real.” Egbert pinched a few dried leaves from the bag, sprinkling them into the bowl, before blowing a gentle fire on it from his lips. “All followers of La Vache Mauve receive good things.”

Dob raised an eyebrow. “Are you….suuuure about that?”

Egbert grinned. “Your best friend is your girlfriend, that seems pretty good to me.” He replaced the lid, settling into the pillow. “Not to mention, rescued from death and all.”

Immediately the panic that accompanied Dob to that room set into his face again. “But that’s the problem . It isn’t great. If it was great, why am I so -” He seemed to catch himself, jamming his mouth shut with his teeth clacking what sounded like painfully in his mouth. Egbert raised a brow.

“So….what? Why are you so…” He titled his head, trying to glean more information.

Dob’s eyes were wide as he shook his head. “Mm-mm,” he grunted through his sealed mouth.

Egbert sighed. “Dob, love a chat, but I was in the middle of my evening constitution when you showed up, so if you would please…” He trailed off as a quiet mooooo went through his mind. “ Be patient, child. This one came to you in his time of need. To be needed is where you should want to be. ”

The paladin inhaled through his nostrils, nodding slightly and re-centering himself. Why had Dob come here? Obviously it was about Merilwen and their relationship. He was anxious. Something was bothering him. But what? Those two got on so well - so well that even he saw it. The official start of the relationship had been when the group was hiding in an attic after Corazon had punched an old woman, and the only real tip-off that something was different was that Merilwen had given Dob a peck on the cheek. As frighteningly adorable as those two had been before, “kissing” had not been part of their routine.

Egbert paused on that thought a moment longer. Whatever was eating him, Dob could only see to come to him for advice. He hadn’t wanted to go to Corazon, the clearly more experienced option for this sort of chat.

“...Are you...afraid?”

Dob twitched at the word, his hands gripping the fabric of his trousers tightly. He looked off to the side, seemingly at the dragonborn’s dresser, chewing his bottom lip, before nodding. “Yeah,” he said, so quietly it was almost imperceptive. He then threw his head back, letting out a single, loud, hollow laugh. “That’s right! Good ol’ Dob is afraid! Dob the bard, of such performing talents, is AFRAID of not being a good boyfriend!” He jerked his head forward, blue eyes blazing once again, though much more manic than before. “ Laugh !” he ordered, trembling in anger. “Laugh at good ol’ Dob for being afraid of socializing !” His frame heaved from the deep breaths he was taking, the small tusks of his bottom teeth appearing and lending to his outburst.

“Mate, I wouldn’t call having a girlfriend merely socializing ,” said Egbert, extending his hands in an attempt to calm his friend down. “It’s a bit more than that, don’t you think?”

Still inhaling loudly, Dob wavered, unsure of his response. “I - y-yeah, maybe. S-so what is it. It’s not just socializing then? What else would you call it?”

Egbert shrugged. “I’m a priest, remember. This is not really my bag. If you wanted that advice I’d say go to Corazon.”

Dob grimaced. “No,” he answered flatly. 

“Right. So you came to me. A priest.” Egbert squinted. “Are you afraid of Merilwen?”

Dob tilted his head, letting the words sink in before answering. “I wouldn’t say I’m afraid of her…” His face went through a journey of emotions before settling on being slightly confused again. “I’m afraid of…you know. Messing up. Not being good at all this. Elves are perfect, right?”

The paladin remembered the town elder of Merilwen’s village - the one who set into motion events to kill those who refused to take a new name. “I think ‘perfect’ is a bit of a reach. They’re mortal and fallible just like the rest of us.” He paused. “Also, one tried to get your girlfriend killed by banshees, so…”

“Hmmm.” Dob’s grip on his knees lessened. “Yeah. That did happen didn’t it.” He slumped, now propping an elbow on his knee and resting his chin on his hand. “I guess...I just always thought that elves were so, you know, cool. And elegant. And -” He stopped himself from saying a word again, though this time the strange flush that came to his green skin revealed the word instead.

“Cute?” Egbert teased, and Dob slumped further.

“Beautiful was more the word I was thinking,” the half-orc replied quietly, his blush deepening as his eyes darted to be anywhere but looking at the dragonborn, who was grinning like a delighted crocodile. 

“Look at you! You do have a good thing!”

Still blushing, Dob finally lifted his head and glared, though it was undermined by an undercurrent of being smitten with a certain wood elf. “I have a good thing right now , but that doesn’t mean it’s a great thing , and it doesn’t mean I’ll have a good thing later .” 

“And?” 

“...And….and that’s a problem.” Dob withdrew into himself again, attempting to shrink in spite of his half-orc frame.

“Don’t you like Merilwen?” Egbet asked quietly, hopefully. “You seem to.”

The bard immediately perked up. “Yeah - yeah of course I do.” He blinked. “Merilwen is the best. But you know, she’s like a hundred and one.” He seemed to be calculating something in his head. “When I was born she was already seventy-three or something.” He paused again before continuing in a murmur. “Which means...if we were friends back then she would have been hanging out with a baby. Oh my gosh.” He looked up. “She could have killed me.” 

“Uhh…”

Dob suddenly appeared panicked, but somehow differently this time. “She would have killed a baby. Oh no. Egbert. She’d be so sad.” 

“Dob I think you’re a little off track…?”

“But don’t you see? I’m going to make her sad eventually.” Dob held up his hands as if they were a scale. “Say this works. Say this lasts. Say this is something that’s not just a fling because we’re super awesome charismatic adventurers on a quest across the lands.”

Egbert nodded, though a little confused on some of his words. “Sure. Okay.”

“Eventually…” Dob closed his eyes, swallowing something uncomfortable. “Eventually I…She’s already lived for so long. I’m just another stop on the road, aren’t I?”

Dob’s face was slowly crumpling into what could only be described as despair, a terrible look of accepting fear creeping into his features. Egbert reeled his head back, if only because that was not the first time he’d seen that look. No - this wasn’t the first time one of his crewmates had come to him seeking bizarrely misplaced advice. He’d definitely seen that same look on a particular wood elf, also expressing her fears and worries about her half-orc suitor, and the simpatico way in which the two worried about their shared relationship just made him more convinced that they were ideal for one another.

“Who knows, right?” The casual answer almost seemed to shake Dob from his despair. “We don’t know what’s going to happen in an hour, let alone tomorrow or next week or ten years from now.” Egbert tapped a clawed finger on the incense bowl on the altar. An extra wisp of smoke swirled around his hand. “You know, if you told me as a boy that I’d someday be a dragon, I probably wouldn’t have believed you. Probably .”

There was a moment as Dob blinked. “Oh right , you weren’t hatched.”

“Nope. And who knows how I would’ve turned out as a human. Probably boring. But maybe not?” He shrugged. “Maybe this won’t work out. Or maybe you’ll have a quarter orc, quarter human, half wood elf baby in a papoose some day.” Egbert realized he should’ve been more surprised at that string of words, but after this long hanging around the half-orc, he couldn’t be bothered. “Find a proper use for one, for once.”

Dob’s eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline. “O-oh Egbert,” he half-laughed, another creep of a blush coming to his face. “I’m busy contemplating my mortality in comparison to the long-lived being I’ve fallen in love with, don’t go bringing that stuff up here.”

“Aren’t you also going to go up a mountain when you die?”

“My body will. My bones belong to the hammer of Ethelfrith’s Chosen. I think.” Dob squinted, staring up in thought. “You know, it’s all a bit confusing, who has laid claim to what part of my body and soul.”

“Then let Merilwen have it, problem solved.” Egbert waved his hand dismissively, which didn’t help the concentration of blood in Dob’s face. “Then when you’re dead, she can have your skeleton to hang out with.”

“La Vache Mauve help me,” Dob muttered to himself. Louder, he continued, “That is really placing an awful lot of confidence on the future. What if she doesn’t even want my skeleton?”

“Ah, but at least you’re thinking about the far future and not just worried about what ifs and can bes of right now.” Egbert was grinning again as Dob gaped at him. “Mate, don’t worry so much about all that. None of us know those answers other than her, and you’re the one she’s most likely to tell and give an answer to.”

“Are you...sure?”

“ Tsssh, of course not.” The paladin waved his hands in an unhelpful gesture. “But what I do know is that if you don’t try, you’ll regret it, and that’s worse than anything. And take it from me…” Egbert cast his gaze to his altar, the wind suddenly taken out from him. “You really don’t want regrets you can avoid.”

Dob titled his head, opening his mouth as if to speak but quickly closed it again. “Yeah,” he said quietly instead. He began to fidget with the fabric of his trousers again. “You know, maybe being a skeleton ward to Merilwen wouldn’t be that bad.”

Egbert slid his eyes over to Dob. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t have to worry about eating or sleeping much like she does. I’m just bang-up ready to go. She could carry me in a hammer.” The bard’s eyes weren’t in focus, instead lost in a soft haze as he smiled to himself, quietly laughing at his own joke. “Maybe she and I can re-work that curse a little bit.”

The dragonborn found it appropriate to only nod. Dob sat quietly for a few moments longer before he looked up, smiling broadly for a second, and pushed himself up off the floor.

“Thanks Egbert,” he said, adjusting his collar while turning to the cabin door. His hand lingered on the handle before he quickly looked at the paladin. “Um...please don’t tell Corazon.”

“He’ll make fun of you, I know. Wise of you to entrust the ‘making fun of’ to me.”

“Knew I could count on you buddy.” And with that, the bard opened the cabin door and saw himself out, closing it behind him and leaving Egbert once again sitting on his altar pillow, alone to his thoughts.

“All followers of La Vache Mauve receive good things,” he murmured, turning in his position to once again be facing the altar. He focused on the light of the candles, his vision blurring, and returned to his evening prayers.

Chapter Text

“What’s lunch?”
“Chili.”
“Again?”
“Yes, again, you’re welcome to make something else if you’d like!”

Egbert waved his hands in defeat. “Nononono, you’re right,” he said to the wood elf pointing a ladle at him. Merilwen was the smallest of the group and so therefore very minuscule to him - her head reached his chest on a good day - but size didn’t matter here. Alls told, it wasn’t really a good idea to mess with anyone on the ship, except maybe its captain. He was fun to make fun of.

Merilwen retracted her ladle and began to spoon a bowl out, which she passed to the half-orc quietly waiting in the shadows for his lunch. Dob poked at it experimentally before smiling widely. “Just the beans, thank you Merilwen.” She returned the smile, spooning a serving into another bowl which she placed on the galley table for Egbert. The dragonborn dragged the bowl closer to him, stirring it with his spoon to cool it down.

“Not a problem, more meat for me,” the wood elf said cheerfully. Dob waited for her to be done serving herself before he carefully bent over to kiss his girlfriend on the cheek. She giggled, batting him away with her spoon.

“Ugh. Disgusting.”

Egbert, Dob, and Merilwen looked up to the entrance of the galley, Dob reeling his head back in the next second at the sight beheld. It was Corazón de Ballena, née Leon, née Percival Milquetoast (don’t ever call him by that name) the ship’s captain (? it was his ship, supposedly) and their pirate compatriot. But most notably in that moment, he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“What? What’s your problem?” Merilwen huffed, one hand on her hip, the other pointing the ladle at him. There were a few moments of silence before a rather merciless grin came to her face. “Jealous?”

“Pwhatthe - jealous? ME?” Corazón strode forward from the doorway, attempting something like ‘swagger’ as he sputtered at the wood elf nearly a foot shorter than him. “I’M not jealous, YOU’RE jealous.”

“Of what?” Merilwen went from annoyed to baffled in record time. Corazón plucked the ladle from her hand, spinning it between his fingers which he made to pass off as showmanship.

“Just jealous your boyfriend isn’t as cool as me , Corazón de Ballena. Oh yes you’re right to stare, but looking’s free.” As Merilwen made to grab the ladle, Corazón drew his hand away. “Touching’s gonna cost .”

“Oh my God. Dob.” Merilwen picked up her bowl with one hand, putting the other on the half-orc’s wrist. He jumped, nearly choking on the spoonful of chili in his mouth. “Let’s go to your cabin. We’re going to eat there.” She narrowed her eyes, pecking her face forward to sear her glare onto the pirate. “Alone.”

“Sounds good to me!” Dob agreed in a sing-song voice, snatching up a few corn muffins on his way out while being led by the wood elf he towered over.

Egbert sat in his spot, mindlessly shoving chili into his mouth and saying nothing. Corazón was also perfectly still, his smirk falling into disinterest as he peered into the cauldron that held the afternoon meal for the day. “Aw sick, chili,” he murmured, helping himself to a bowl before taking a seat opposite Egbert at the galley table. He began scooping the food to his mouth, and what ensued was a strange thirty seconds of the two men eating wordlessly, looking up but not at one another, and everything seeming perfectly fine.

“Ow,” Corazón muttered quietly, and Egbert glanced over to see he had dropped some chili on his chest on its way to his mouth. The pirate attempted to remedy the situation by swiping at the food with his thumb, but him being rather, erm, blessed with hair on more than just his face (Egbert couldn’t relate, no hair on his body since becoming a giant lizard), it was a rather worthless effort.

“You could wear a shirt,” the dragonborn supplied, and he wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or actually trying to help.

Corazón sighed loudly, looking up. “YES Egbert, of COURSE Egbert, I am AWARE Egbert. What, you think I didn’t calculate the risks when deciding ‘hmm, should I wear a shirt to lunch, or should I grace my crew with this example of amazing human conditioning?” Upon those words, Corazón extended his arms and flexed. Egbert rolled his eyes.

“I breathe fire. Dob can open crypt doors with one hand. Merilwen turns into a bear.”

“Ah, but you noticed, and that’s what’s important.”

“Noticed what.”

“Me. Your beloved captain.”

“I’m a priest, and those two…” Egbert gestured at the empty seats at the galley table. He was about ready to continue eating when the omission of the conversation became obvious, but said nothing while looking at one other peculiar thing about the pirate that normally was hidden from view.

Their merry band of adventurers had been adventuring for a few months when one night, after a particularly raucous celebration, Corazón had stumbled off to somewhere in town with no one accompanying him. It wasn’t a big concern - he was an adult, sort of - and that trust was proven correctly placed when he appeared the next morning on the deck of the Joyful Damnation, curled up to a barrel and sleeping off his hangover. However, there were a couple new additions to his presentation - one, a few ear piercings, and two, an awful lot of tattoos. In true Corazón fashion, he refused to say anything had been an accident, and indeed, if going by the way he showed off afterward, he did seem confident and proud of them.

Corazón finished inhaling his serving before getting up and returning to the cauldron for more. His back now facing Egbert, the paladin took note of the design of the elaborate tattoo not too often seen, thinking that someday he might have to identify a body with this knowledge. Essentially, the entire left side of Corazón’s upper body was decorated with the image of a giant octopus. Its spindles wrapped around his bicep and shoulder - the bits on his neck and upper chest were most often the visible ones - but the larger part was the head located on his ribcage, more tentacles rolling on his hip and crawling onto his back. In the center of his back was the true pièce de résistance of it all: the Joyful Damnation as if caught in a storm, crashing into ocean waves and framed by more tentacles. 

“Very noodly,” Egbert muttered, and Corazón turned his head to look at him.

“What about my noodle?"

“Uh -”

“My noodle’s smart.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“You can fit so much wisdom in this noodle.” He knocked a fist into his head.

“Can.”

Corazón narrowed his eyes. “You know what Egbert, I’m starting to think that maybe you don’t respect me, your captain, who lets you take off for religious holidays.”

Egbert raised a brow. “You let me take off for religious holidays?”

“Htzuh - I would, because I’m such a generous captain, but you don’t tell me anything, so therefore it’s your own fault you don’t get them off.” Corazón frowned, waving his spoon like a dagger. “You’re so closed off, Egbert.”

The dragonborn cocked his head. “What? I’m an open book.” He lifted his free hand, ticking off numbers. “Sky cow, explosives, dragon. What’s there more to know about me?”

“Egbert!” Corazón declared, pounding his fist on the table. “I think it’s about time you went on trial!” 

“For what?”

“Your many crimes, the most important of which is -” the pirate dropped from his bravado to talking quickly, “- what happened huh huh? What did you do? Who blew up? C’mon man you gotta tell me.”

Egbert held up a fourth clawed finger. “I maintain a vow of silence on such things and if you won’t give me religious holidays off then you can give me that.”

He waited for the subtle tug in his mind, and felt his stomach turn when no voice came. Alright, looks like that one’s still on me then.

Corazón furrowed his brow, one hand rubbing his beard and mustache. “Hmm, hmm, I see, I see…no paid holidays in exchange for your silence.” He leaned back and nodded. “Usually have to run these decisions by the treasurer but in this case, as your captain, I feel like I can allow it.”

“Mmm, good,” Egbert replied, only slightly sarcastically. He reached for a glass that wasn’t there before frowning. “You know what would be great right now?”

“Ignoring my previous ruling and getting an explanation on your past crimes…?”

“Nonono, better than that.” Egbert scooted himself away from the table and made his way over to the cabinets housing what meager ingredients they had on hand for cooking. Plenty of beans, which helped explain why Merilwen was always making chili. He was excited to see, still in its original spot, was a pack of tinnies he had stashed away behind a wall of black beans. He pulled out two, turning on his heel and tossing one at Corazón, who had been watching him with suspicion and easily caught the projectile with one hand.

“What is this?" the pirate asked, sniffing the can before turning it around in his hand. Egbert punctured the top of his can with a claw and took a swig. 

“It’s refreshing is what,” he answered. “Want me to get that for you?”

Corazón looked at the can with disgust. “This swill you call booze? I don’t know.”

“Mm, suit yourself.” Egbert took another drink. “It is pretty lower class and made for tough guys. Only strong stomachs can handle it.”

“What’s that?” Corazón puffed his chest out, extending his hand with the can. “I’m the strongest, toughest one around here. Open it, my good dragon man!”

Egbert punctured his can, which the pirate seemed to slightly regret when giving it another experimental sniff. He hid a smirk as Corazón took a swig and made a sour face. “Only for the toughest around here.”

“Y-yeah. That’s me.” With a grimace, the other man swallowed forcefully. He leveled a glare at the drink before he inhaled deeply, and then forcibly chugging down the rest of the can before slamming it down on the table. “Ahhhh. Yeah.” He belched into his arm. “Yup.

“You should have another,” Egbert said, pointing at the cabinet he had retrieved the cans from. “I think it would set a good precedent for your leadership abilities.”

Corazón’s eyes widened but he quashed any panic that may have been coming. “Sure. Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. What, you think I can’t do that? I am your captain afterall.”

“Mmm, yes, quite,” Egbert replied into his can, nodding as Corazón maintained eye contact while standing up. “You know, speaking of tough guys, where’s Prudence?”

Corazón stumbled in his footing. “Fzhzh - what? How should I know? I don’t know where she is, and I don’t care.” He turned away to face the cabinets, taking a strangely long time to open and rummage through the fortress of beans to find the tinnies. 

Egbert blinked. “That was very subtle, Corazón,” he said, grinning. He quickly hid his teeth when the pirate turned back around, tin clenched in his hand and his eyes narrowed.

“I am the master of subtlety.”

He couldn’t help it, the crocodile came back out again. “Yeah, very. Explains the tentacles. Extremely subtle.”

Corazón’s eyebrows shot up. “What? What are you talking about?” He set the can down at his setting before picking up his bowl to ladle himself more chili. “Tsss , Egbert, you’re crazy. Tss. Tss.” He flung himself back into his spot at the table, aggressively shoveling more chili into his mouth without realizing what he was doing. “Mmm . Chili.” He swallowed painfully. “I don’t mind it burning my mouth.”

“See, that’s what the beer is for.” Egbert reached across and punctured a hole in the can.

The pirate took a deep drink, the corners of his eyes watering with tears masking his pain. “You’re a good man, Egbert,” he wheezed. The paladin smiled.

“Of course.” He bowed his head slightly. “Just here to serve by the will of La Vache Mauve.”

Corazón was stirring his chili while staring carefully at Egbert. He looked like he might be suspicious of something, or maybe he was trying to pick out something stuck in his teeth, it was not the easiest thing to figure out. Soon enough, he had landed on the question he wanted to ask. “Egbert, just how devoted to your cow god are you?”

Egbert raised a brow. He knew he should’ve been insulted, but he also knew his friends and cohorts - he knew they weren’t trying to be insulting. They were trying to learn more, and maybe just had clunky language along the way. Be gracious to others, and may they return grace to you . “I’m the sole paladin to La Vache Mauve, so you can assume I’m pretty devoted.”

“But what does that mean . Are there any rules, things like that?”

“Ah, I see.” Egbert set his drink down. “Well, don’t eat cows, that’s one. Milk and cheese, those are okay if I bless them. Prayer at sunrise and sunset, you know, for the sun. Midway too, if I’m able. I am to guide others when they seek it, to be helpful and not seek glory for my own.” He had already caused enough trouble - there was a reason he was seeking atonement, after all.

“But can you like...marry and stuff?”

Egbert widened his eyes in surprise. “I suppose if someone were to ask I can marry them in the tradition of La Vache Mauve, though at this point Dob might be the only one qualified for-”

“Nonono, like, can you marry. Or are you. You know.”

Egbert tilted his head. “Celibate?”

Corazón shrugged. “Sure, if you want to put it like that.”

What other way was there to put it? “‘Temperance’ might be the most accurate word for what you’re looking for.”

“Ah.” It wasn’t a very exciting answer. The pirate had his head propped on his hand, spooning chili in his mouth with the other. The set-up seemed to be making eating more difficult than it need be.

“Though again, if you’re interested in getting married in the tradition of-”

“I’m not getting married, Egbert,” Corazón cut in, huffing. “Who would I even marry?’

The dragonborn possibly had an idea. “I dunno, someone you love? That’s supposed to to be how it works anyway.”

“Well it ain’t gonna happen to me.” Corazón sat up, tapping his spoon against his bowl. “The sea is my love. Adventuring is my love.” He twirled the utensil in his fingers. “If any such mortal were to want to claim my time, she would have to be pre-tty amazing.” He cut through the air with the utensil, performing a few sword gestures that may have inflicted damage had then been done with an actual one of the pirate’s cutlasses. “Cool, powerful, and would look good with this.” He made eye contact with Egbert while jerking a thumb at himself. It took every ounce of self-control in the paladin for him not to roll his eyes again.

He cleared his throat instead. “Yeah, I can see how that would be important. A pirate’s wife would need to keep up and all.”

Corazón grinned. “And piss off my dad.”

“And piss off your dad, of course.”

The grin retracted into a smirk. “She’d have to be something different, you know.” He shrugged. “Another human might not cut it.” His brow lowered, and there was a glint of internal strife in his gaze. “My father wanted to get me into an arranged marriage. Had a few girls who were interested.” His eyes widened as he caught himself in his admission. “I MEAN - there were dozens. Hundreds. So many.” The overconfidence returned and he propped his elbow on the table, positioning his head on his hand and leaning forward. “I was very popular husband material.”

Egbert could swear his scales were going to crawl right off as he refrained from any sarcastic comments. “Y-yeah. I can tell.”

“Ahh, but I gave all that up!” Corazón waved his free hand in the air, closing his eyes and sighing dramatically. “All those lovely society girls - nope. Not for meee. ”

“So no longer husband material?”

Corazón scoffed. “Now now. Don’t go saying such things. You never know when the day will come that we’ll have to infiltrate a high-society party - ”

“-we did do that once-”

“- and I’m going to have to pull those lessons out of the ol’ noodle and pretend to be betrothed to someone so we can blend in and steal some cool gem worth chests of gold.” He twirled his spoon again. “Now obviously in this hypothetical situation, we’d have to figure out the candidates to be my fake betrothed.”

“Right.”

“Now, what kind of a gentleman would I be if I were to borrow Merilwen for this occasion?” Corazón tutted at himself. “Even I could not do that, even if just faking, to one of my crew. The devastation to dear old Dob. Plus, Dob and Merilwen are weird, they’d be better served as a distraction.”

“I’m sure.”

“Which is also where you would be, Egbert. Team Distraction.”

He nodded in agreement, sincere this time. “That is something I’m good at.”

“So clearly the only option for this is Prudence.”

And right there is when Egbert noticed something different about one Corazón de Beallena.

“Clearly.”

There was a fire in his eyes, thrilled at what his imagination had allowed him to come up with.

“We’d be quite a pair, don’t you think?” Corazón was grinning now. “Can you imagine? We’d show up and disrupt this party - my dad’s throwing it, of course, why else would we be there - and there I am with an awesome tiefling warlock on my arm. But oh!” He wagged a finger. “Don’t even think about calling her anything less than Lady Prudence.”

Egbert paused, dredging through his mind about how titleship worked. “I think she’d need to be married to you for that.”

“Tsh . She’d enforce it with or without a title.” He looked away. “T-though sure she - she could be married to me. Yeah. That’s fine.” He pretended to be interested in picking his nails for a moment. “So we go as fake - as fake husband and wife instead.” He looked up suddenly, a genius new idea crossing his mind. “Actually - that would be amazing. ”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes!” Corazón clenched his fist. “Can you imagine, I show up to my father’s estate, with Prudence as my wife?! We would look spectacular, and my father would be horrified, and he would look stupid in front of his stupid friends because his super cool son would be there with his hot wife.” He caught himself. “I mean - not. Not wife.”

Egbert, externally, allowed the comment to pass. Internally, he was filing every word away to be used later. “Yeah, I can’t imagine your dad would be too happy to see any of us, but gosh, his son married to a tiefling.” He exaggerated his nod. “That would be something.”

“It’d be great.” Corazón was smiling, though now he seemed a bit more lost in his thoughts. “I don’t...I don’t know if the tiefling thing would bother him, or if it would be the warlock thing, or her lack of social standing, or if it’s just that...I...would have made the decision instead of him.” He stirred his chili absently, staring down at the remaining contents of his bowl.

Egbert took a sip from his beer, mulling over the words. “Corazón, if I may.”

“I’ll allow it.”

He rolled his eyes. “You seem to care an awful lot about what your dad thinks. And you know,” he said before the pirate could interrupt, “it’s not bad to care about what one’s parents think, but your motivations shouldn’t just be spite.”

Corazón snapped his jaw shut, which was admittedly a first and triumphant accomplishment for the paladin. He raised his hand, ready to counter-point, but curled his finger back into a fist and shook that instead. “It’s - it’s not just about getting revenge on my dad and making him look bad.”

“Oh?”

“No.” Corazón hesitated, rolling his fingers up and down, carefully choosing his words. “You know, it would be...it would...I have this life. With the ship. And the crew. You guys.”

“Mmm. Yeah, we live here too.”

“And the more things we do, the more my life is taking shape. The more it’s mine . Nobody else’s. I finally have that, and I didn’t...have that before.”

Egbert lifted his chin up. “Is that how you see it?”

“Yeah.” Corazón separated his hands, all five fingers open on one and a closed fist with the other. “Everything I do, it’s a thing I’ve controlled.” He began to raise his fingers on the closed hand. “And someday, I’ll have more of what’s mine than of somebody else’s.” The hand he had been counting up on collapsed over the other, as if smothering it. Corazón looked at his hands in an odd contemplation before looking up again. “I. Maybe. Care about my...crew.”

“That’s good to know.”

“And if hypothetically I cared about one particular member more than the rest, that wouldn’t make me a bad captain, would it? No - no, it wouldn’t, it would just mean that - it would just mean I liked. Someone. A bit. And - and that’s fine.”

If by now there was one thing Egbert knew about Corazón, it was that Corazón was everything at once. He was a slew of contradictions, of polar opposites coexisting, and prone to changing his mind by the time he spoke the next word. But in the very least, there was one thing he knew the man needed: he needed someone to give him an anchor. “It doesn’t make you weak to want another hand on your journey.”

Corazón grinned, relieved. “Ah, see? I knew you’d understand.”

“Yeah, and if that one just so inspires you to get a giant octopus tattoo, then we can all take the hint and let your plan work itself out.” His crocodile grin came out again, and he felt just a little bit bad at enjoying the reaction from his crewmate and supposed captain.

“Htzhzh - what are you talking about?!” Corazón suddenly seemed to realize his inked torso was on display, and he attempted to cover Egbert’s view of it by covering his body up with his (also inked) left arm. “You’re - you’re crazy Egbert, I - I just like - tentacles.”

Egbert said nothing, letting his raised brow speak for him.

“Yeah. Tentacles. They’re - they’re great.” Corazón maintained eye contact a few seconds longer as his face grew an obvious shade of red, before picking up his chili bowl and shoveling the rest in his mouth. He slammed the bowl and utensil down before leaning forward.

“I. Just. Think. They’re. Neat.”

The pirate stood up and turned his back to the paladin, the full glory of the tattoo coming to light once more, before he marched out of the galley with just as much aplomb as his entrance, though with a much smaller audience.

Egbert reached across the table and took the left-behind tinny. There was no good in wasting food and drink when they were out to sea, and he wasn’t going to be on the hook for Corazón’s mis-deeds.

People, he thought while nursing the beer, would be a lot better off if they just admitted to things rather than pretend nothing was there. If people would listen to his advice, he would give that advice. It seemed to be working well in one particular area. But he wished he had been told that by someone older and wiser, by someone who actually cared about him. It would’ve served him well a long time ago.