Chương 62: Donned Squirt

They ended up speaking late into the night. Not only about her now upcoming trip, but strategies for expected skirmishes against the feybeasts on the southern border of Everwinter. The Titled Riverlands wasn't a position that could be filled immediately, which left a glaring problem for the lords to solve—namely, the territory's southeastern border was with the Capital District, giving assailants from Skye Kingdom an open pathway straight to the Capital.

So long as they could fend off hordes of angry monsters they had been supercharging by dumping ships filled with fey into the Wylds. Something she wanted to hold against the pest, but as he had been kidnapped and sacrificed on one of those vessels, she had a feeling it wasn't something he could really be held accountable for.

"I just wish I had more lightning stones," she muttered while looking over the maps. Lord Everwinter said, "Granted." She blinked.

"What?" He gave her a sly smile.

"It appears a number of our newest residents came bearing lightning stones as their tithe. Something they heard about from a certain village chief." Her lip quirked.

"Well, whaddya know…"

"You can have as many as you like." She gave him a hard stare. He shrugged.

"They were addressed to the Hunt's chosen. I get my tithe from you plenty." Lady Kenna delicately snorted behind her hand.

"That's putting it mildly. You've made us rich." Squirt's wide-eyed gaze slowly swiveled in Lady Kenna's direction.

"… what?" Lady Kenna raised a brow.

"We've been exporting hundreds of highly valued pelts to the greater national army in preparation for wartime. We never would have gotten any without you. If you counted that alone and nothing else, your single contribution is making more than any other export Everwinter makes." Squirt stared at her. Logically, she knew that. But here, again, her upbringing had gotten in the way of logic, and she'd just assumed she got no credit.

Lord Everwinter, annoyingly, could read her far too easily as he gave her a stern look. Silently admonishing her for thinking so little of him. She grimaced and muttered, "Gods damned titled fey…" Lord Everwinter shrugged.

"I have gotten the reports from Quint on your orders. Every single one has been reasonable to the point of erring on cheap. As far as I am concerned, until she advises me otherwise, you are free to any supplies through her that you request." He gave her a sly smirk.

"There is a reason she is my quartermaster." Squirt muttered, "You and your damn talent sniffer." Several people in the room snorted. He ignored them, leaning forward.

"Which reminds me. Your armor. I'd like to get you new custom armor." She scowled. He nodded to the clothes she wore. She softened, pulling back into herself and running her fingers over the butter soft fabric. She sighed.

"Fine." Brock's eyes flittered between them before he burst out, "I don't get it. How'd you convince her?" Squirt scowled with a blush as Lord Everwinter explained, "Custom, yes, but simple looking. Fine quality without standing out. Like her clothes."

"Her clothes?"

"Golden fleece." Squirt balked. He smirked. She scowled indignantly. Gods damnit, she'd been wearing golden fleece for three days — Golden fleece was of course shorn from golden sheep, found exclusively in the mountainous lands of Om'pius, inherently magical and able to take on whatever form a skilled weaver could imagine. He fucking smirked at her.

"It's two outfits using only enough material as it might take for one of mine. I had extra I had stockpiled over the years. I didn't order it." She let out a breath, the tension dropping from her shoulders even if her lips pressed in a pout. She muttered, "Still too good for me."

"Do you want me to trash them?" She crossed her arms protectively over her chest as if to physically hold them to her body and snapped, "Don't you dare!" He shrugged.

"Unless it is gifted to a child, no one else will fit those clothes. They are too small for even most pixies." She scowled, baring her teeth as she did.

"I know, I get it, I'm small —" A shit eating grin tugged up the corner of his lips as he said, "We all have our shortcomings." Her expression deflated.

"I hate you." He clearly debated teasing her more and she glared. He decided to tactfully get back to the subject at hand.

"The armor—I ask that you not leave for Norland until it is finished." She nodded.

"How long?"

"At least a week."

"Fine." A week longer she could practice with her new bow, then.

"Am I castle bound?"

"No." She blinked.

"I'm not?" He dropped his head and sighed.

"Athereon, I would like nothing more in the world than for you to stay here, safe and sound, particularly when you have no armor. But I am well aware that you can borrow pieces, ill-fitted though they may be, and make do. As you very clearly already stated, you know how to keep yourself safe. I suggest taking your steed with you when you go—" In a small, hopeful voice, she asked, "Mole?" He considered her for a long time. As he did, Brock was starting to see what Ranin meant.

When had the two of them gotten so close? Was it romantic? Lord Everwinter finally softened his expression at her.

"Mole is your steed. He belongs to you, and only you, and was returned by a refugee who rode him north for you. A brownie, I believe." This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Steva?" He smiled.

"Friend of yours?" Squirt scowled.

"More like the only fey in that whole damn castle who saw me, the hunter and not the greenling." Several guilty parties in the room averted their eyes as almost all of them had, at one point or another, thought of her as a greenling first and hunter second. The notable exceptions were, of course, the trio of wolves. Unaware of their minor awkwardness, Squirt asked, "So… he's mine?" Lord Everwinter nodded.

"Not even another Titled Everwinter could take him from you. He is registered as yours, and yours alone." Thank the gods, she got to keep Mole.

"Noted." Then she fidgeted.

"… did… did the books get returned?"

"In the den. You're welcome to them anytime." She scowled, blushing deeply.

Several of those present immediately got the wrong impression. Wolf dens were deeply private, and often if a fey that was not a wolf had access to a den, it was for more than just sleeping. After all, dens were for the pack. A shared private space for them. For the three wolves and Squirt, the arrangement was familial in nature. Squirt was part of the pack and thus was allowed in the den when very few others were. For those more romantically minded, it was indicative of a deeper level bond than simple fuck buddies.

Which is exactly how both Brock and Ranin, the former having been primed by the latter, interpreted it. They weren't alone. Kenna was the only one to clock the misinterpretation but chose to remain silent. She had long since decided to stay out of Bartos's romantic entanglements, as non-existent as they'd been, unless he asked something directly of her. Lives of fey were long, after all, and hope sprung eternal. The next morning, Squirt was brought by Tobias to the leatherworker Lord Everwinter employed.

The orc man was oddly gentle in nature, a pair of half-moon glasses resting on the tip of his nose as he measured Squirt all over, asking her to pull out her weapons and show him her fighting style. The conversation took longer than Squirt had expected as the older orc with light blue skin asked her questions without once making Squirt prove herself. It was oddly refreshing, and she found herself relaxing around the older male with kindly eyes.

Eventually, the orc gave her a few choices in colors and styles that were within the Guard's dress code, and she opted for a darker color than her previous leathers.

"Come back in six days," he said, "and we'll do a fitting. I'll be making you two sets—winter armor and summer armor—based on your specifications, Athereon. For now, take these pieces." Donning the armor, Tobias then led her to one of the smiths to discuss a slew of new arrow heads and those oversized throwing darts, including some minor modifications to some of the darts such as opening up the weighted portion so she could add powder bombs to it.

The smith was gruffer, a younger elven woman with a gleam in her eye at Squirt's requested modifications. She would finish Squirt's order and leave it with Quint when finished but asked for notes on the modified pieces and the arrowheads that worked the best in return. Squirt bowed in appreciation, then left, Pakos excitedly trotting behind her as Tobias picked up the rear. They headed off to the stables where they heard raised voices.

"I'm telling you, you're giving them too much sugar in their diets! They need fewer fruits!"

"These are treats for training—""There's training and then there's spoiling —" Squirt, recognizing both voices, trotted into the stables to see the tiny brownie Steva with her hands on her hips and glaring up at the fallen beast tamer that had trained Mole, his shoulders hunched in petulance. Neither of them spotted Squirt until Pakos trotted happily up to one of the stalls, drawing their eyes and yipping happily at Mole.

Mole sneezed in surprise, then leaned down to touch noses to the little moon hound to speak as creatures did. The little brownie's eyes went wide with wonder, and she clasped her hands together.

"Oh, he's beautiful." Pakos then turned and fucking posed as he ate up her compliments. Squirt noted he was a vain little thing, greatly enjoying the attention. She trotted forward while Tobias called out a greeting.

"Hey Keltos, little miss." The little brownie instantly dropped her eyes and fell back, her hands clasped demurely in front of her and leaving the beast tamer, Keltos, baffled as he stared down at her. Keltos gave Tobias a helpless look. Squirt was the one to speak first, saying to the brownie, "He's harmless, if annoying." The woman blinked, her eyes up, before covering her mouth with her hand and nodding, then relaxing as she smiled at Squirt.

"It's good to see you well, huntress. I'd been worried after the goddess's wrath and you leaving Mole behind and all, but when I asked after you, they just said you were fine." Mole, in his stall, pranced as he leaned over his door, trying to reach her. She held up his hand so he could sniff and reassure himself while she scowled.

"… I heard you brought him north for me?" She nodded, smiling warmly up at him.

"Yeah. He kept me safe when a few of the feybeasts got into the stables on the second night and wouldn't let anyone else ride him. He didn't like their attitudes." Squirt scratched him under his chin, resolving to treat him later for being a good boy in her absence. Steva paused, her fingers wringing as she looked nervously towards Tobias. Tobias wouldn't be riding, claiming his wolf needed an excuse to run, anyway. Squirt studied the look in the brownie's eyes, recognizing her own mental scars staring back at her.

Returning her attention to Mole, she said quietly, "I won't tell you it's safe here, because there are always assholes, but Tobias is one you can trust. If any of the fey here give you shit, find the quartermaster and tell her I sent you." The brownie gave her a considering glance.

"What do I call you, huntress? Surely you aren't the only huntress in Everwinter." Squirt stared back before her lips quirked up on one side in a tilted smile.

"Of all the fey I've met, you are the only one who truly sees me as a huntress and nothing else." Tobias stepped closer, leaning down over the two much smaller women and casting a shadow. Steva shrank back a little on instinct until she caught sight of his friendly smile.

"Well, any friend of Braveheart is a friend of mine." Steva shifted, her black nose twitching.

"So, tell the quartermaster Huntress Braveheart sent me?" Squirt snorted.

"Tell her the greenling huntress sent you. Braveheart is his name for me." The brownie's cheeks puffed up in a pout.

"That's demeaning."

"Braveheart?"

"No, just…" Tobias had a teasing lit in his tone as he said, "You can just call her what everyone else does—Athereon." Squirt's shoulders hunched as the brownie gave Tobias a wide-eyed stare, then slowly traced her eyes down to the pixie she was only barely taller than. Squirt chanced a glance out of the corner of her eye, only to then double take at the glittering of her eyes and the beaming smile. Steva clasped her hands on Squirt's and leaned forward.

"I knew you were special! Mole said as much!" Squirt gave her an odd look.

"Oh ho," said Tobias, "Beast tamer magic?" The brownie ducked her head like she was awaiting a beating. Squirt's heart squeezed. Beast tamer magic was not nearly as impressive as elemental magics to the followers of the archaic ways. Tobias continued normally without acknowledging the flinch.

"It's a good thing you're here, then. Keltos needs a set of helping hands, particularly if they can help bridge the gap between him and fey. He can work miracles with the beasts, but fey? I mean just look at the guy." All three of them turned as one to see the fallen shifting from foot to foot, his eyes down on the ground and unable to meet any eyes, clearly deeply uncomfortable as his hands constantly roamed over himself, touching his pockets or brushing over his pants. Steva gave him a pitying look.

"He is a certain kind of helpless, isn't he?"

"He is, but you'll keep an eye on him, won't you? After all, I heard you taking him to task already." She fidgeted.

"I'll do my best, milord, but—""You can call me Tobias," he said with a grin. She hesitated, then said, "I can certainly do my best to bridge the gap." Squirt recognized herself in the brownie and knew the underlying meaning.

"Stay in his shadow and translate. If they give you trouble, it's his job to deal with them—you just translate." A somewhat relieved look passed the brownie's eyes, and she nodded. Squirt jerked her thumb at Tobias.

"It's what he's for. He takes the brunt of animosity for me and deals with things that might be hindered by my status. I just do what I do best and keep my head down, and if someone takes issue, that's his mess to deal with." Tobias nodded.

"Damn straight." The brownie softened as she looked up at Tobias, finally giving him a warm smile.

"You're a good one, then. May your bow be blessed and…" She blinked.

"Wait… wasn't the goddess upset by how the lady treated Athereon?" Squirt took that as her cue to leave, saying, "Where's my saddle…" The brownie, easily distractible, jumped on the task, though without a step stool set up, it ended up being Keltos who actually saddled Mole, the two of them quietly bickering as they went. Tobias squatted down to whisper in Squirt's ear, "Five earth pieces they're mated in a year." Squirt slowly turned her head to give him as incredulous a look as she possibly could.

He waggled his eyebrows and nodded to them.

"I've never seen him open up to anyone besides his lordship." Squirt flatly muttered, "The same could be said for us, you know."

"That's why the bet is cheap. Just enough to buy a couple of tankards of ale." Squirt shook her head as they finished saddling Mole up, clucking to get him to trot forward. She nimbly scooped up Pakos with one arm and gripped the saddle with the other, holding on as he exited out the barn. Without bothering to acknowledge Tobias's bet any further, nor the clear budding chemistry between hostlers, she leapt into her saddle once in the courtyard and took off at a trot.