Chương 63: Grieving Jul

A tension Squirt had been carrying for weeks now eased as the road was engulfed by the trees, and she breathed out a sigh of relief. Until Tobias, in his wolf form, raced in front of her and growled at a figure waiting close to the turnoff point. Squirt slowed Mole down as she eyed Jul, the fire fata, his eyes deadened with grief as he straightened from where he was by the tree. Still, she didn't stop her approach, snapping at Tobias, "Knock it off."

She didn't miss that Pakos' fur was dancing threateningly around him, even if he didn't growl. Keeping Tobias between her and the fire fata, she waited for him to address her. He bowed deeply in greeting, rising with his hands held up in surrender, a morose air around him.

"I just… wanted to talk. Privately." Tobias growled, his fur standing on end. Jul blinked a few times tiredly before he sighed.

"I meant privately without every other hunter or guard listening, not privately as in without you, Hunter Tobias." Squirt considered Jul, but there was not a drop of his usual arrogance, nor any ill intent in his aura. His normal flaming aura of magic seemed diminished today. Muted. Not intentionally, though. Dismounting, she muttered, "Shift back, Tobias. He's one of us, you dolt." Tobias shifted back smoothly, though kept himself between Squirt and Jul with a glare.

Or at least, he did, until Jul sighed and lowered himself to his knees. This stunned Tobias sufficiently enough for him to lose the glare, and Squirt found her eyes focusing in on Jul. Jul waited before speaking, his hands clasped in his lap and looking more broken than Squirt had ever seen him before. Seconds passed while the fata seemed to gather his courage before he spoke.

"I… came to ask a favor that I know I have no right to ask." Squirt crossed her arms over her chest, annoyed that she was getting weirdly used to much stronger, higher ranked fey kneeling to her.

"Then ask." His features cracked with grief and sorrow, his voice a bare rasp as he said, "I ask for you to give me the heads of my sister and mother." Squirt stiffened.

"What?" He grimaced, dropping his eyes, his hands releasing each other to rub his palms on his dirty pants.

"The former Lady Riverlands and her daughter, Silva." Suddenly, Tobias's animosity made a lot more sense. As Squirt gave the fey a hard stare, a lot of things made sense, actually. What didn't make any sense, however, was that even when he thought she was a powerless, helpless, hapless greenling, he never had any animosity towards her. Even when he was being annoyingly arrogant, he'd never, not once, ever been intentionally cruel. Unintentionally, yes, but not intentionally.

He choked as tears brightened his eyes, rocking back and forth on his knees as the grief consumed him.

"I won't bore you with my whole story. I never got along with my sister, and my mother and I often butted heads. I hated the Seneschal. My mom always disliked Lord Everwinter, so… when the opportunity came up for me to make my own way forward under his flag instead, I took it. Anything I could do to spite her." He raised his eyes to her, the smile his lips curved into lacking any true humor.

"But… I just…" his voice cracked, "… that's my mother." For a long time, no one moved beyond him wiping his tears and rocking on his knees, his head bowed as raw grief gripped him. A sob hit his body and he shook his head, saying, "I… I never… gods, I should have…" He trailed off, the meaning clear. There were many things he could have done. He could have warned her, warned his family, told them about Squirt. Only he didn't.

And the redcap had tortured his sister, his mother had been torn apart by a raging mob, and now both their heads were being gifted to her by that same redcap. Squirt exhaled out her nose sharply before saying in a surprisingly calm, quiet tone, "Let me guess. The redcap has made a display." He nodded, choking on another sob.

"I… I'm ashamed, more than grieved, huntress. I can understand if, if you, if you refuse or send me away or…" Squirt pressed her lips in a firm line.

"This is putting me in a tricky situation. You know that, right?" He blinked, having to wipe the free-flowing tears.

"I-it is?"

"Yep. Because the only way I can do as you ask is by accepting a mate gift from a redcap." Clearly, he'd never thought of it from that angle before, and despair crumpled his face.

"I-I never, I'm sor—""Don't you dare," she snapped.

"And I'm not getting rid of you, stupid. Gods, you might be the worst of the hunters right now, but we'll need your raw power as the seasons go. And Tobias, stop fucking growling. You can't judge him for having a shitty parent any more than you can judge me for it." That got the attention of both men, Jul's face still streaming with tears and snot as he asked, "You, too?"

She considered him for a long time before saying, "It doesn't matter how powerful the parents are or what lineages they have, the Whims being what they are, any parent can birth a greenling." That confused Tobias out of his shifter aggression.

"But, wait, I thought—""It doesn't matter. You know as well as I do that while Jul is an arrogant idiot, he's no more intentionally cruel than you." Tobias's eyes dropped with a bit of guilt at that. Squirt huffed, her arms crossed in front of her chest as she glared down at the ground.

"… do you want their heads back to put them to rest or because you can't stand looking at them?" Jul's eyes dropped and he wiped his cheeks before rubbing his hands up and down his pants, rocking in thought. Slowly, he said, "I… don't want to see them… like that… I'd like to lay them to rest as the goddess will judge their souls and punish them enough, but I won't—""Fine," Squirt said, cutting off whatever piteous thing he was going to say next.

"Stay here, I'll be back." She stalked off through the trees before abruptly coming to a stop. Then she turned and glared a challenge at Jul. He straightened, his brows soft and eyes red rimmed with tears. She snarled and muttered to herself before stomping back over to him, pointing her finger at his chest, her eyes filled with rage.

"And you, you stop feeling guilty. You were in a different fucking territory, it had nothing to do with you, and I'm not such a fool that I'd let my pride chase away someone who's going to be a damn fine hunter one day. If you're grieving, then grieve, but stop throwing a fucking pity party just because you're related to someone who was a piece of shit to me." He swallowed at the animosity, leaning back away from her and looking more than a little dazed. She snapped, "Are you going to start demanding I bow?"

"N-no, huntress—" Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"Are you going to steal my shit and whip me?" He paled, "Never—""Then buck up and stop taking blame when it was never yours to take." She whirled, stomping off into the forest and grumbling about idiotic fey too noble for their own good. It wasn't until she got to the clearing that she realized Tobias had stayed behind. Waiting for her in her clearing was an eager redcap and the other hunters.

Ala'ole and Mnemic—a dark skinned changeling—stood by together, the only other of the queen-sent hunters left and thus the only fully fledged hunters to remain behind. Samuan, Vakiex, and Vox stood off to the other side, their faces all drawn tightly with a mix of emotions between them Squirt didn't care to interpret. Not when she spotted it. Instead, she scowled at the display of pikes with severed heads in front of her porch, condensed to look like a macabre, oversized bouquet.

With the three main offenders at the front. Squirt took a moment to enjoy the craftsmanship, even if she never let it show on her face, because Qzi had made it surprisingly artistic and frankly, it was oddly heartwarming to know how thoroughly they had ripped apart every fey who had made her feel small, trapped, and terrified in that hellhole. Not that she would ever admit it.

But after sixty years in the Capital with no one giving a shit about her, forty years in the clutches of the Sia-bitch, and twenty spent in the backwoods barely scraping by… it was kind of nice to have people give enough of a shit about her to do something like this. The Sia-bitch would've made a display of other greenlings to show that Squirt was her number one, always and forever, not one made from the heads of those who had been cruel to her.

Qzi had changed to some rather formal looking clothes, pulling his cap off his head and dusting imaginary dirt off his lapels before he stood waiting, his hat in his hands, for her answer. She scowled. Gods damn Jul with the gods damned puppy eyes— Ignoring the others who had stood to greet her, she dismounted, ordered Mole to stay like the good boy he was, marched right up to the redcap, stopped, and stated clearly, "I challenge you to an archery contest.

If I win, I get to keep the heads without accepting your damn proposal." He pouted.

"But pricklebear, I can't force you to mate me if you lose." She paused, genuinely surprised. He could, in all rights, state that if he won, she would accept his proposal. It's exactly what the Sia-bitch would have done in his position. Odd. Shaking it from her head, she sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Do you accept the challenge or not?" He considered this.

"I do." She sensed a but. He pouted again, his hands in his pockets as he kicked the ground petulantly.

"You are… rejecting me? Or my proposal?" Technically, two very different things. The latter was a proposal to mate, a semi-permanent bond. The former was technically referring to archaic law related to the Goddess of Sex—rejecting a fey whose advances were unwelcome such that they would not be allowed to ever proposition the rejector ever again. Useful, for those who observed those practices, since there was magic tied to it as it related to consent.

Repeatedly propositioning someone after being rejected by them courted the wrath of the gods, and history had examples of those who had and were cursed from this behavior. History, not myth. Recent, too. There was always an idiot somewhere who believed they were above such laws. As a result, most fey didn't verbally reject people who courted or propositioned them and simply ignored them instead. They could encourage it or ignore it, because they might change their mind eventually.

It was why Squirt always said she did not consent so clearly to those who had propositioned her. Yet, in all the time since he'd first gotten on his knees and asked her to mate him, she'd not once rejected him. Simply ignored him. And she hadn't realized it until that moment. Squirt scowled, dropping her eyes to the ground. She could just reject him. She could. She should. The whole clearing held their collective breath.

Fury lit through her at the audacity of this man, for having asked for her heart and not her body when she knew nothing about him.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, I don't know you, I don't trust you, why the fuck would I say yes?" He stared at her, not fidgeting at all.

"That's not a no." Her eyes went ice cold.

"I almost died two weeks ago because I told someone no. I only say it as a last resort. Don't make me use it." His fingers shifted his hat into a round shape that he held in his hands to slowly spin it as a fidget, but he still remained more still than she'd ever seen him before. Several minutes passed as the impulsive, fidgety character she knew him as seemed to disappear, leaving behind an unyielding resolve and unexpected intelligence. Thoughtfulness. In a redcap. Finally, he said simply, "You don't trust me."

"I don't trust anyone," she said, her voice wavering slightly, unnerved by this other version of him. Redcaps weren't thoughtful. It wasn't possible. He would never be more than a vague annoyance. But there was a confidence to him that seemed to say otherwise. Surprisingly, she didn't hate it. And she refused to think any further on the subject. Qzi broke the silence once more to say, "If I win, I get to be by your side for a full day. Not trailing behind. There beside you."

"Fine," she bit out. Anything to get him to act more… redcappy. He beamed. Popped his cap on his head and rubbed his hands together.

"Standard shots?" Thank the gods, the idiot had returned. Standard shots meant they took turns on a target that was set further and further back until one of them didn't hit the bull's eye. It would leave her, with her small bow, at a distinct disadvantage. Not like she had much of a choice.

"Yes," she bit out, deciding that if she needed, she had her secret weapon, blatantly ignoring that she was still inconsistent with her shots. Ala'ole stepped up.

"I will act as judge and make the target, if you'll have me."

"Fine," Squirt snapped, turning and pulling out a standard short bow she'd gotten from Instructor Hawke. Ala'ole drew a line in the dirt with her longsword.

"Take marks from behind here." Then she just waved her hand and made a target some forty paces away. Squirt scowled at the blatant magic use as she strung her bow. Qzi, eager as ever, bounced on the balls of his feet once his bow was strung, a bright smile on his face. They turned to each other and did a common hand gesture game to determine who went first. Qzi won. He drew his arrow first, notching it, aiming, and firing with a satisfied cluck of his tongue. He hit dead center. Squirt scowled at it. Damnit.

They hadn't actually done any competition like this before, she had just hoped it was the one thing she could beat him in. Now she was starting to worry. She stepped up next, lining up her shot, and firing. Her arrow landed neatly next to his. They repeated this at fifty, sixty, all the way up to one hundred paces before their shots were no longer dead center, even if they still grouped rather nicely in the bull's eye.

With a scowl, she knew that she was now at the limit of what her bow could physically do with any accuracy. Qzi beamed.

"Wanna go all the way to one-fifty?" She scowled harder. Yep. That would be far too far to shoot accurately with her current bow.

"Fine. But I'm switching bows." He was using a standard longbow, so he simply shrugged. She unstrung the bow she had been using, putting it away and pulling out her recurve. Stepping back towards a tree, she used it to help her string the enormous Skyian recurve bow the pest had gifted to her. Qzi was not the only hunter whose eyes lit up at the sight of it.

Taking their stances, the target had gone all the way into the tree line for this distance, making it even more difficult to see the little spec that was the target. Qzi went first, drawing up his bow, aiming, and loosing it. It hit with a distinct thud, and Ala'ole called out, "First ring!" It was an impressive shot at that distance in terms of sheer accuracy, but now Squirt had an opening. If she could hit the bullseye, she'd win. If.

Stepping up to the line, she pulled out one of the longer arrows for this, notching and drawing a few times to remind herself of the feel of this bow with a wildly different grip and draw type. Gods, she was sore. Squinting, she could barely see the target through the trees, let alone the bullseye. This was so stupid, there was no way she could make that shot. Unless… That first shot she'd taken a few days ago in the training yard. That sudden clarity. The Hunt's words to her about a boon.

She touched her forehead, feeling a pulse of divine energy coming from it. Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths, steadying herself before eyeing the target with her arrow notched and bow lowered. She didn't have enough strength to keep the bow drawn while she aimed. Focused, a calm washed over her. The target sharpened in clarity as she focused on it, and after another breath, her arms moved, drawing the bow with an eerie sense of rightness, her body moving with a thought and adjusting itself. She loosed.

It flew.

"Bullseye!" came the shout from Ala'ole. Relieved, Squirt let out a breath, a little nervous as she glanced warily at Qzi's face. Her expression flattened as she realized she needn't have worried—she'd never seen a fey look so happy to lose.

"That was amazing, pricklebear! Your forehead glowed and everything!" One hand slapped to her forehead, a blush dusting her cheeks. Damnit. Stomping away, she muttered to herself about flying monkeys as she unstrung the bow, carefully stashed it, and then disappeared into her cabin. Coming back out with two bags made of leather scrap bits, she marched over, grabbed the two heads that had been requested of her, and angrily climbed in her saddle. Ala'ole stopped her with a hand on Mole's reins.

"Wait. Are you really taking those to that traitor—""Fuck off, he's a hunter, not a gods damned traitor," she snapped.

"But—""He wasn't the one to steal my shit. The dead don't care what happens to them. I'm not about to lose an ally for your titled fey bullshit pride. I don't need a collection of severed heads of those who've wronged me, or this whole damn forest would be full of heads, so fuck off. Now." Though clearly unhappy about it, she finally stepped back, releasing Mole's reins.

Squirt twisted enough to see the surprised expression on Qzi's face and snapped, "I've had enough of rotting flesh to last a lifetime, I certainly don't need that stink here. Get rid of them. I don't care how." Then she tapped Mole forward, Pakos following with an excited yip as he raced along the ground and led the way back to the roadside where she left Jul.