Chapter Text
Chilchuck looked around the table and saw that all his friends were there. It was an early summer evening and a small feast had been set out in the gardens behind the castle. A breeze rustled the leaves of the citrus trees and their branches swayed and dropped sweet-smelling flowers on the hair of his daughters.
The wine flowed and there was food aplenty. Everyone was talking happily, eased as much by wine as by fondness after not having seen each other for so long. The men nodded pleasantly as the women laughed, their voices tinkling like silver on glass.
He let his gaze meander toward the sea. The sun had yet to set and it glowed gently over the water, waiting for the stars to come. Before them, the lawn rolled gently down a slope - a tapestry in emerald green dotted with small, yellow-white flowers. Children rolled on the grass, laughing and shrieking among the bushes as they chased an overexcited dog.
Laios sat at the head of the table. An hour or so beforehand, the guests rose to their feet as he made his entrance. The young King blushed as he turned and led Marcille in front of him. Chilchuck noticed that she was nervous, and that she took his hand with a giddy sort of happiness.
Something in that simple gesture made Chilchuck uneasy and his old aversion to party romance reared its head. Laios had not been this solicitous to Marcille the last time they had sat down to a meal together, and he wondered what had changed. In any case, Chilchuck was determined to mind his own business. He was only a guest after all, and their dungeon delving days were long over.
Laios motioned for everyone to sit down, but several guests paid him no heed. Senshi drew himself up to his full height so he could reach out and pat his old party leader on the back. Instead, he found himself being enfolded in both Laios's and Marcille's arms.
Izutsumi sized them both up but only allowed Marcille a brief embrace before slipping back to her seat.
Namari – a little awestruck – did not seem sure what to do before Marcille bent down and gave her a warm hug.
“That Marcille…” Namari said as she hid her blushes and returned to her spot beside Tansu Floke and Yarn Floke.
And so it went, even with people whom Chilchuck assumed Laios and Marcille saw almost everyday. The King clasped Kabru’s hand while – to his surprise – Marcille and Mithrun kissed each others’ cheeks.
Yaad the Chief Minister was also there but he seemed a bit distracted as he smiled and clapped Laios on the shoulder.
Even the Orc leader Zon and his sister were there, and with them a young Orc who was introduced as Leed's husband. Marcille clasped Leed’s hands with her own and began speaking to her intently.
Chilchuck waited until everyone had filed past. It appeared that Laios had even invited the adventurers from the Dungeon’s second floor – the Tallman Doni and his Half-elven wife Fionil – both of whom seemed a bit daunted by the other attendees.
“Dad, why are you waiting so long?” Flertom asked, smiling through gritted teeth. He looked at his middle daughter and thought she looked especially lovely this evening with her flowery dress and matching shoes. Of all his children she resembled her mother the most.
Meijack, his eldest, was being even more quiet than usual as she shifted uncomfortably in her boyish clothes.
“Dad, I need to talk to you,” she said right before they arrived but he had shushed her by saying they were already late.
Meanwhile Puckpatti was transfixed. She had nurtured a little crush on Laios since their family was first invited to dinner and he showed genuine interest in her work. It proved a very unappetizing discussion for everyone else, but Patti was undeniably smitten. So when her father still hesitated, she pinched him in his side. Hard.
“Owwww!” Chilchuck yelled. “Okay, okay. Behave yourselves.” He said as they made their way toward their hosts.
Laios’s face broke into a wide smile when he saw the Tims draw near.
“Chilchuck!” He exclaimed as he leaned into an awkward half-standing, half bending position. Fortunately, Laios was only wearing a light cape so he did not smother the father of three when he put his arms around him.
“Yeah, so how's it going?” Chilchuck said distractedly as he watched his daughters curtsy before Marcille while she began to aggressively fawn over them.
“My goodness, how lovely you all look!” She gushed, producing daisy garlands from her sleeve pockets and placing them on the half foot women’s necks.
They’re fully grown! Chilchuck wanted to snap. He’d forgotten how annoying Marcille could be, and he felt his hackles rising. Just because Half-foots were smaller didn't mean that the other races could treat them like children. And his daughters’ conduct – with the exception of Meijack’s – did nothing to discourage this sort of behavior.
Chilchuck was about to intervene when he felt a large right hand on his shoulder.
“Chilchuck, I’m sorry,” Laios said softly. “But you know how Marcille gets around kids - she sometimes forgets herself.”
He looked up at Laios and saw sadness in his eyes. When he turned toward Marcille, he saw that she was sitting on her heels and asking Flertom about how she made her dress, while Puckpatti shyly stole glances in Laios’s direction. Meanwhile, Meijack shot him a look that said, Help!
Chilchuck was barely an adult when he became a father, so while he loved his daughters, he also saw them as a huge responsibility. He remembered watching his friends carouse while he had to hurry home because Meijack was ill. The sleepless nights when his wife was exhausted from feeding, when he had to carry both a baby and a toddler and walk endless circles around their block so they would somehow fall asleep. How the neighbors would yell because of the endless crying.
And yet here was Marcille. She would never lose sleep anxiously waiting for a fever to go down, but she would also miss out on seeing a child take their first step. She would never see one slowly grow up and become their own person, with their own character, quirks and predilections.
Chilchuck sighed heavily and touched Laios’s hand to indicate that he understood. “I’m a very lucky man.” he said as Laios smiled.
When the pleasantries were over, he and his daughters returned to their assigned seats, which – to Flertom’s delight – happened to be right opposite Senshi's.
“Where’s Falin?” Chilchuck asked suddenly, sensing that Izutsumi was about to sidle up to him for warmth.
“She’s still on her travels,” Senshi replied. “Last week, she sent me some very interesting ingredients from Wa Island and I used them to create a special dessert for tonight. I would have liked to prepare the main course for this feast as well, but Laios insisted that I come as a guest.”
“Guess she’s still visiting with Shuro, eh?” Chilchuck replied as Namari’s ears perked up.
“Yeah, I heard his Dad died so she really couldn’t leave before they buried him.” She said.
“My dear,” Mrs. Yarn Floke interrupted in her usual gentle manner, “I don’t think we should talk about such things at this time.”
The Gnome Priestess began to chant a spell to dispel bad luck and restore levity to the proceedings but she needn't have bothered. At that very moment, the Golden Country’s Vintner arrived with several bottles of Melini’s finest wine.
Until then, the guests had been grazing from plates filled with fruit and nuts and bread and cheese. But when Remi the chamberlain poured everyone a glass, a few snuck in a sip while they sniffed the wine’s bouquet. Those who did remarked that they could barely taste the alcohol, even as it made them pleasantly lightheaded.
“This is your best yet.” Zon grunted enthusiastically to the winemaker who turned almost as pale as the vintage he was serving.
“It’s the same wine as the one we served at Captain Leed’s wedding.” He insisted as beads of sweat quickly formed on his brow. “The only difference is that it’s been in the barrel slightly longer. The cellars were pretty dry this year so we could keep it for another month.”
Zon looked at his sister proudly as she spoke to her new husband. How long has it been since the great wedding feast? Only one month and yet it seemed like a lifetime ago. Now Orcs could walk the streets of Melini with their heads held high. And while there were still stares and whispers about how his people had forgotten their place, Zon felt reassured by the sight of his own son playing on the grass with the children of the Golden Castle.
He had grown so much in just three years and was already starting to lose his stripes. How long would it be before Leed would bear her own children and they would play in these same gardens with their cousin? Zon must have been talking aloud to himself, because Leed had fixed him with a stare that made her feelings on the matter quite clear.
The guests continued to chat while another smaller table was set up for the children – this one piled high with snacks and little bites and pitchers of chilled juice made from the last winter fruit. The rules were relaxed so the young ones could play and eat whenever they pleased. Meanwhile the adults grazed and took furtive sips from their wine glasses until the first course arrived and everyone turned their attention to their meal.
“Everyone, please dig in!” Laios exhorted as everyone uncovered their appetizers.
Chilchuck was pleased to discover that the first course was a mixed seafood tartare served on a bed of fresh lettuce and tomatoes. For the guests who weren’t too keen on sashimi, small bricks filled with hot coals had been set at the center of the table so they could grill their fish and crustaceans after brushing them with a sweet, citrusy sauce.
The smell of charcoal in the evening breeze reminded the guests of when they used to run down to the beach to eat freshly-grilled sardines after the first catch came in. One by one, their eyes began to mist over - but they weren't sure if it was from nostalgia or from the smoke.
Chilchuck realized that a good ale would be the perfect accompaniment to this meal, but he didn’t want to seem too greedy. After all, he had just had a full glass of uncommonly good wine. It was so fresh, fruity and incredibly light that he did not think to warn his daughters that they were not drinking juice.
“Dad,” Meijack said as she turned to Chilchuck after finishing her course. While the cutlery was the perfect size for Half-foots, the portions were not, so Meijack arranged her knife and fork to indicate that she would not be taking a second course.
“Did your friend say that he had received some ingredients from the Eastern Islands?” She said as she tilted her head in Senshi’s direction. The Dwarven cook was still eating his first course with a calm deliberation, as though he was figuring out how to improve it.
“Yes, that’s what he said.” Chilchuck replied.
“So there must be a ship that arrives and leaves each week?” Meijack pressed.
“Not sure about the shipping routes, but I think you’re better off asking that guy over there.” Chilchuck pointed toward the brown-skinned, blue-eyed Tallman who sat between the Chief Minister and the former Captain of the Canaries.
“No one does more traveling than Kabru, so he would be familiar with both the shipping and transport routes and schedules.”
Meijack looked excited, more than she had ever been, in fact. This unusual behaviour put Chilchuck on edge and made him wonder what his eldest daughter was planning. But as his eyes lighted on Kabru who was his usual ebullient self, Chilchuck noticed that Yaad was strangely silent. The Chief Minister picked restlessly at his meal – after taking a bite, he would sigh and stare off into space.
Whenever Laios or Marcille tried to engage him in conversation, he would smile and nod, but otherwise Yaad seemed quite far away. Chilchuck began to wonder if the veil that was said to tether him and the rest of the citizens of the Golden Country to this existence was finally beginning to lift.
Rather selfishly, the Half-foot’s first thought was to try and persuade the Vintner to pass on his secrets and techniques - for it would be a tragedy if their gathering would be the last to enjoy his wine. He wondered what life would be like for those who had yet to experience the brilliant haze in which Chilchuck found himself - a cocoon-like warmth that blunted the sting of his sharp senses and made him feel nothing but good will toward his fellow human beings.
After everyone had finished the first course, the servants came to remove the bricks, plates and cutlery. Yaad seemed to retreat within himself for several minutes before he rose from his seat. It was not necessary to call everyone’s attention, for the former ruler of Melini still knew how to command a room. The guests quieted down as Yaad bowed slightly and began to speak.
“I wish to express my thanks to King Laios and Lady Marcille for inviting me to this feast,” he said, pausing to find his smile.
“What an honor it is to see you all again – those of you who have had a hand in the Kingdom’s restoration!”
He raised his glass to the assembled guests. Seated at this table were no less than three former Dungeon Lords – one of whom had barely escaped with his life and sanity intact, another who had proved herself powerful enough to challenge the Mad Mage, and of course one who not only defeated the Mad Mage but an ancient Demon as well. The rest were adventurers who had had a part in this remarkable achievement, and thus deserved Melini’s eternal gratitude. And yet to someone like Yaad who had lived for more than a thousand years, even the oldest of them seemed like mere children.
He did not understand why the Flokes were there, nor why Captain Leed and her brother and husband were asked to come. But it was no longer his decision to make. Over the past month he noticed that he was being asked to join the Council less and less, and while it was perhaps because the King had finally found his footing, he could not help but feel like a mother bird who had worked tirelessly to feed her young, only to watch them fledge and fly off without even a backwards glance.
“As you know I am quite old,” at these words, both the Chamberlain and the Vintner nodded somberly. “And an old man knows when he should take his rest and let the young ones take the reins. So I would like to announce that I am stepping back from my duties as Chief Minister.”
Kabru and the citizens of the Golden Country did not seem alarmed by this news, but those who glanced at Laios and Marcille could see that they were taken by surprise.
“The Governor will find this interesting,” Tansu the Gnome whispered to his wife as he straightened himself in his chair, but Yarn pretended not to hear.
Yaad lifted his glass towards the head of the table, “King Laios, it was an honor to serve you.”
As everyone drank a toast in Laios’s honor, the King rose abruptly from his seat. Chilchuck saw several expressions flash quickly across Laios’s face – sadness, surprise, perhaps even a hint of resentment – before it settled into a kind of acceptance. He approached Yaad and pulled him into a tight embrace.
“Thank you, Yaad.” He said through tears. “Thank you.”
There were also tears in the old man’s eyes when he pulled away and said, “Be a good King, Laios Touden.”
A few more words were spoken before Marcille came up and Yaad took her hand in his and said, “Use your time wisely.”
Before she could ask him what he meant, Yaad bid goodbye to the assembled guests.
“I meant it when I said I needed to take a rest. I’ll leave you young people to it.”
Then, it was Laios’s turn to raise a glass and the rest of the gathering joined him.
“To Yaad!” His voice resounded throughout the garden, along with that of the guests who had joined in the toast.
Over and over they hailed Yaad’s name and that of his family. The wind carried their triumphant voices down from the castle mount and into the valley where it ambled gently toward the sea. As time passed, the sound grew fainter and fainter until the night air was once again filled with silence.