Chương 61: Squirt Scolds

Squirt ended up down with Quint the quartermaster in her attempt to avoid prying eyes since not even Tobias was allowed behind her counter. There, at the back of the shelves in a clear area, she turned her pouch inside out to take a full inventory. She'd lost maybe a quarter of her feystone collection, particularly larger stones, some various items here and there for trap making and a couple of her powder bombs, but overall, much better than she'd been afraid of.

The truest tragedy of it all was the precious gift from Sugar Works—the smashed pieces that remained were half eaten, some still moist with drool. Clearly, someone had shared. She mourned the gift and the lost chance of a lifetime. If she was lucky enough to get another, she would rather break the pieces herself. The habit of keeping everything she owned with her at all times, ingrained since childhood, had truly worked against her this time. Why didn't she just leave the damn box in her cabin?

Eventually, she moved on to gear. Her cloak had been altered by the bitch who took it, but Quint had already wordlessly handed her a replacement almost as soon as she had arrived. To her annoyance though, her new bow, as tall as it was, was too large for her pouch. Glaring down at the pile of various materials, she was debating what to do about the new bow and additional supplies she'd started carrying on the regular that had made her pack just a touch tight of a fit when Quint grunted and held out a parcel.

Squirt stared at it reproachfully. Quint grunted.

"Ordered this for you a ways back, it only just came in. Timing seems to fit." Immediately wary of her intentions, she asked in a flat, almost challenging tone, "Why?" Quint answered in her usual gruff, no-nonsense, straightforward manner.

"Because you needed it. I am the quartermaster. It is my job to manage the goods and anticipate needs." Squirt had never heard of a quartermaster taking the initiative to order something for one of the residents without a request made, but then again, she didn't feel like she was lying, either. She took the offered parcel, carefully unwrapping it before her features softened somewhat. Quint grunted.

"Tobias's influence." It was beautiful. A dark pouch slightly bigger than the one she had, embroidered with little stars that came together in a delicate pattern of the Hunt aiming at the white stag when held in just the right way. In the packaging was the enchanter's note that denoted the size of dimensional space, and Squirt's eyes bugged out of her head. Gods. It was… what, ten times the size of her own?

Sensing the lingering magic on it was a tricky skill, but one she employed to confirm her suspicions—Telos had been the one to make it. When had she even had the time — Quint didn't stay once it was opened, instead turning back to crates that she was unloading and cataloguing. It appeared the recent refugees had specifically brought tithe with them for the lord.

Squirt kept both pouches, keeping the original one on her hip while tucking the other into her shirt for safekeeping, worried someone might take it for being so fine. Pakos darted all around her belongings, sniffing and familiarizing himself with them. As a divine beast, he had his own inherent magic like a feybeast, but unlike a feybeast he would not evolve forms nor die out in the winter.

He was, obviously, a special case, but the griffon that carried her to Everwinter from the Sia-bitch's lair was another example. Little was known about divine beasts as they tended to be secretive, powerful, and rare, all things that made them either beasts of legend or sideshow attractions, depending on who was talking. To the Sia-bitch, who had the raw power to keep one contained? Sideshow attraction. To Squirt? Beasts of legend.

Though then Pakos lifted his leg and began to groom his nether region, and Squirt had to wonder how legendary was legendary. She was, of course, completely unaware of exactly how legendary she herself was becoming.

"Hi hi! Is the huntress hiding back there, by chance?" came Lady Kenna's voice. Squirt perked up. Lady Kenna was not nearly as overbearing as Tobias in nature, and unlike a certain redcap, she wasn't bringing her mate gifts. Something for which Squirt hadn't decided what to do about beyond ignoring them and hoping they would go away on their own.

"Oh, hey Tobias—I guess that answers my question." Tobias chuckled.

"Caught in the act, I know. How're the refugees settling in?"

"Oh, some better than others. You know how it is." Squirt trotted to the counter, standing on her tiptoes to see Lady Kenna with a slight furrow to her brow.

"Yes?" Lady Kenna gave her an apologetic look.

"You've been summoned to the office." Squirt scowled.

"… give me a few minutes." Quint grunted.

"You can leave your things. They'll be safe with me." Lady Kenna grinned.

"Aw, look at you, protecting her hoard." She leaned over the counter and loudly whispered, "This is why they call her the dragon of the keep." Two things occurred to Squirt in quick succession. First, Squirt thought she might have caught sight of a blush covered up by stern indifference on the quartermaster's face. Second, she eyed the quartermaster warily, wondering if she really was a dragon, and if Squirt had been added to her hoard like Paloka had added her.

Having guessed the question in Squirt's eyes, Lady Kenna chuckled.

"No, she's not a dragon shifter." Squirt gave the quartermaster an appraising look but didn't ask. Instead, Quint grunted, shifting and muttering, "Honey badger." That… explained quite a lot, actually.

"Ready?" Squirt sighed. No, she wasn't, really didn't want to go, didn't want to ever see them again. Dutifully, she trudged after the gorgeous wolf shifter as they walked up the stairs and entered the office, Lady Kenna not bothering to knock. Something Squirt would never get used to. Inside were the three highest ranked fey in the territory, Anvanil, Telos, and Lady Cirn.

She slipped inside as secretly as she could, only as soon as Lady Cirn caught sight of her, the woman quickstepped across the small space to land in a low kneel, her head bowed and hands pressed into the floor.

"Forgive me, huntress, for failing in my duties. I had been assigned to protect you, and not even I noticed the ill intent—" Anvanil didn't approach but looked like he was looking for just the right moment to speak, his face full of undisguised concern as his eyes scanned over her form. She scowled at them both, her temper flaring after the shitshow in the courtyard. In the last three days, she'd gotten more attention from more people than the rest of her entire life combined, and it was starting to overwhelm her.

Then Lady Cirn said, "—I offer you a life-debt as recompense—" and Squirt snapped.

"Oh, fuck off!" The room went quiet, Cirn's eyes lifting to the frustrated, furious face of the pixie woman, her fists clenched and shoulders up by her ears as her green eyes glowed.

"I don't want your fucking life, I refuse your gods damned titled fey bullshit debt, and if you offer that again, I will fucking slap you. This is your exact fucking problem, assuming your solutions are the best solutions for every situation, including the situations you know fuck all about! You know gods damned nothing about me and how to survive in my world, so stop pretending you do." Cirn, still drowning in her guilt, dropped her eyes.

"Gods damnit, stop being so gods damn meek! Where the fuck is the woman I fought in the training grounds? Bowing your head to a gods damned greenling, are you insane —" It was this that finally drew Ranin's eyes up from where he'd been morosely staring at the coffee table, visible surprise in his face. Cirn's body stiffened in awkwardness as she struggled to move forward and answer the woman.

"—do you have any idea how fucking annoying it was to be unable to speak my gods damned mind in that place?" Ranin frowned.

"What do you mean? I asked you your opinion—" If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. She turned her furious gaze at him before some of the heat in her anger ebbed into wariness. Considering something before she said, "I want to use my boon so that nothing I say or do in the next hour can be used against me." Utterly baffled, he said, "I… thought I made it clear that you were safe with me. You don't need your boon for that."

She gave him a hard stare before biting out, "Forgive me my mistrust, my Lord Prince Commander." He broke a little under the weight of his guilt, his eyes filled with depths of emotions that made her bare her teeth in distaste before he said, "I swear by the Goddess of Victory to not harm you no matter how you speak to me." She waited before realizing that was it. That was the whole statement. There was no timeframe on his vow, nor stipulation of privacy or location.

If he ever harmed her for speaking to him rudely, his own goddess would smite him. Idiot. Glaring at his unrepentant face, it quickly became clear his vague vow was entirely intentional. She huffed. Fine. Then she wasn't holding back even a little. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a bundle of clean arrow shafts ready for fletching and a loop of some green plant fiber. Tucking the arrows under her arm to hold them in their bundle, she quickly wrapped a layered tie over one end to keep the bundle together.

Licking her finger, she rubbed it over the fiber as she started to spin the sticks under her arm instead of wrapping the thread over it, allowing her finger to just barely wet the fiber. Finished, she put the rest of the twined fibers away and held the bat of sticks by the now obvious grip. Then she stalked forward and smacked it onto his head. The arrows were light, bendy wood, and while one end was tightly bound, the other was loose with plenty of give. It hurt, but it made more noise than anything.

His eyes snapped up to her, his hand going to where she hit him, and she snapped, "You idiot. Every fucking time you asked me was around other god damns attendants and titled fey who would have murdered me for fucking talking back to you so boldly in front of them. Do you know nothing of the archaic law? Even if I wanted to, you're a gods damned prince in a gods damned castle, do you have any idea how many attendants were listening in hoping for gossip on your conversations?

Have you never heard of a fucking silence spell? And gods damn it, I'm not fucking shy, I am not allowed to speak." His jaw opened and closed, trembling a little.

"I… you were my honored guest and—""And another thing! Gods damn it, telling me to stay there because it was safer and the baths were great? I was forced to towel off from a gods damned closet sink and given stale bread and cold water as my gods damn dinner."

"I tried to offer you a spot at the table—" She smacked him on the head again, stunning him.

"And that! Do you have any idea how big of a fucking target you made me with that? I'm a greenling, gods damnit! I get it, it's fucking unfair, believe me I get it, but the gods damned truth is it doesn't matter how much proof you show them, some people will die by their prejudices, and they are most certainly willing to kill for them. Pick someone else to make a fucking political statement with. I'm not a gods damn representative, I'm a fucking Guard. Treat me like a gods damn Guard.

You gave me more attention than Cirn for gods sake! Was it any wonder they all thought you were fucking me?" He paled considerably.

"I… never realized—" She smacked him again.

"You didn't even realize? How fucking stupid are you? It was the talk of the entire fucking castle. Do you know how many people offered for me to suck their cocks or taste their cunts like I do yours?" She ignored the growls from the offended shifters and gave him another smack for good measure.

"Gods damnit, not even I thought you were that stupid. I had assumed you thought it was a good rumor to protect me, not that you're so damn ignorant you didn't even think to have an attendant of your own listen and report on rumors to you. Gods. It was bad enough you had so many people in your tent while traveling, but at least then, I had people I could send messages to you through if necessary. I don't care if you trust those fey with your life. Take a gods damn lesson from Lord Everwinter, huh?

When he asked me to show you my wings, he sent his own attendant from the room." She smacked him again.

"Did you learn nothing while you were here?" At the chortling from Brock, she turned around and pointed the bundle of sticks at him with fury in her eyes as she said, "And you, don't even get me started on you, gods fucking damnit!" The big shifter shrank back a little, his eyes wide.

"Me?" She smacked his head.

"I'm not a fucking toy for you to just pick up whenever you goddamn please —and not telling me you were a gods damn prince?" She smacked him again.

"You could've gotten me killed —" So continued her verbal assault on the princes, both cowed by her presence while Bartos positively blushed. Anvanil and Telos, the only two who both weren't the center of her attention and hadn't seen her wings, knew better than to ask. Midway through, Tobias couldn't take it and shifted, nuzzling her back to try and calm her ire. Much to the surprise of the others, she didn't smack him, instead letting him nuzzle under her free arm and petting his snout.

It did nothing to appease her furious tirade, naturally, but several noted that in the depths of her anger, her tool was little more than a hard slap with her diminutive stature, and she never once raised it towards anyone but the two princes. Cirn, meanwhile, was rather grateful the strict social rules for the Guard meant she had not spoken to Athereon, or else she would have also been on the end of a similar dressing down.

She had thought nothing but praise for her lord for his treatment of the pixie, proud to call him her lord. Several times, she visibly winced at the smack received by Lord Prince Ranin, as if she was feeling the blow just as keenly. To Bartos's surprise, his name came up several more times as examples they should have followed, and he found himself somewhat awed by the end.

Her candid praise meant more than he had expected it to, especially when she noted some of the smaller, background things he'd done he hadn't expected her to notice. It was enough to alleviate the stress of his animal at hearing these things about her time there, and by the end, his chest was warm rather than tight. As suddenly as it started, like a summer storm, it was over. She crossed her arms over her chest and heaved an annoyed sigh at the two now thoroughly chastised men.

"Well? Why did you summon me here?" It had been so long, they'd entirely forgotten. Ranin was pretty certain the excuse was made up to show her interacting with Bartos more to Brock and prove his assertion. Fortunately for him, Bartos actually had a reason to call her, and Ranin had simply jumped on that. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"Norland. What would you like to do about it?" She considered him for a long time, leaning back against Tobias and holding his gaze. Bartos could almost sense the question.

"You don't have to." She exhaled sharply out her nose. Her tone was resolute as she said, "I do." His lips quirked in a bare wry smile.

"As you wish." She scowled at him lowering himself even in jest. Besides, it was obvious he was unhappy about her decision, and he couldn't hide that behind a gods damn smile in an attempt to distract her. He sighed, dropping his head in defeat at her keen gaze and running his hand over his hair before admitting quietly, "I… really don't like this." She huffed.

"Just let me go with some of the other hunters as my proxy. That worked well in the forest. Nutso and Darko are scary enough that they don't have to play the proving game that I do, proving my worth to every gods damn fey in existence, they just are. And better yet, they know how to let me prove myself when the moment is right." She gave both princes dark looks. Lord Prince Ranin protested with, "But the surges—" then flinched as she raised the bat up again.

She didn't hit him this time, but the threat was definitely there.

"In case you've forgotten, I'm a greenling. Feybeasts are even worse at sensing me than fey. This time of year, all I need to do is hide. Alone, I'm safe from surges. It's when I have to keep idiots like you safe that I'm in danger." Even Lord Everwinter appeared surprised at that. Squirt gave each of them an annoyed glare. All of them were powerful and likely had been since they were children.

They'd been surrounded by powerful people or safe city walls and thus had only ever experienced surges as a powerful fey—a chaotic boost to their magic that could be anything from annoying to dangerously disruptive, and a natural disaster to anywhere touched by the Wylds. They hadn't even been able to conceptualize before that moment how surges looked to her. She didn't get a boost to her magic, having too little of it. Since she had so little, she might be in danger from a starving feybeast until about midsummer.

After that, the feybeasts became large enough that they rarely noticed her. By late fall, even when they did notice her, they never bothered with her. With how quickly the populations had been growing this year? She was already relatively safe. So long as she didn't walk straight up to a feybeast, she continued to be relatively safe. In a surge this time of year? All she had to do was hide and wait it out.

The stampeding feybeasts were too mindless to spend time looking, and she was too weak to be picked up by their senses. She muttered to herself, "Gods damned titled fey… look, yes, I'm weak, but the people in the towns will begrudgingly accept me if I get a chance to prove myself. Your cities and castles are my death trap. That is where I need to be on edge, and that's your problem to deal with." She pointed at Lord Prince Ranin's chest as she said that. He blinked.

"It… is?"

"Yes, it is. These aren't my damn rules, but gods damn it, it's not my gods damn job to fix it. You leave me out of it. You wanna make a political statement about greenlings being equals? Find another gods damn greenling to do it." Shrinking back, he sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

"… I just… how am I supposed to keep you safe?"

"You don't," she snapped.

"I do. I keep myself alive." Telos spoke up.

"I hate to bring it up, but… your hunting trip? The beacon? You didn't even use it until you were starting to bleed out." Squirt hunched her shoulders and scowled.

"… I'll have others with me this time." Lord Prince Ranin suddenly burst out and pointed, "See! This is why I thought you were shy and just trying to be polite! You almost died because you refused to call for help—" She bristled, "That was different!"

"How?"

"I was a little busy running for my life during a surge—""After, though? I heard you treated both of the others before yourself!"

"I used it when I realized I was out of bandages, I would've been fine—" Telos choked a little." Fine?"

"I know how to suture my own damn wounds—" Anvanil turned green.

"—and if I'd been able to get to that one or bandage it to stop the bleeding, I wouldn't have needed to use it. I waited until it became clear I needed the help—" Lord Everwinter spoke over the din of the arguing group and suddenly, every one of them fell silent. His voice had just a touch of a growl to it as he said, "Athereon, you should have used it when you first arrived at the crash site." She stared at him.

Then, to the surprise of everyone there, she blushed deeply, dropping her eyes and looking thoroughly chastised.

"That… looking back… that would've been smart, yeah…" He drew in a deep breath and released it before answering.

"… you hadn't learned to trust us yet, so reasonably, I couldn't have expected you to use it readily."

"No, you're right. I had spent time collecting evidence to give you and didn't think it wise to use it and make you fight through the forest for a bunch of dead fey, and…" She blinked, realizing something she'd never questioned before that moment.

"… hang on, how did they even get to me so fast?" Lord Everwinter answered as solemnly as ever, "Telos flew them." Squirt gave him a hard stare.

"You… you're serious." Telos ran her fingers through her fluffy tawny locks.

"I have winter and spring, though spring is dominant." After a long, wide-eyed stare, Squirt just muttered in a defeated whisper, "That's just not fucking fair." Telos giggled, touching her forehead.

"I don't have the mark of a goddess." Squirt only now realized that her headband had fallen off at some point. She blushed, tugging on her bangs, her eyes flickering over to Lord Everwinter. The two of them shared the same thought of his words to her previously, that she bested him in multiple skills and he didn't mind besting her in raw magical ability. This look of theirs only further cemented their deeply romantic connection as far as Ranin was concerned.

To the rest, opinions varied, but then the moment was over. Instead, Squirt cleared her throat.

"So… when do I leave, then?"