Chapter Text
“No, no, a tomato plant. Yes, I understand that. Look, I have to teach a lecture on plant genetics, and there’s a shocking number of studies on tomatoes… yes, the heirloom tomato study. That one.”
Filch leaned back in his desk chair, glaring at Gale across the way from him as he snickered. It wasn’t his fault he was teaching a basic horticulture course this semester. The department had demanded he teach the freshmen about Punnett squares, and so he did. “That’s fine if you don’t have one, but do you know someone else who might? …Where? ‘The Grove’? Sure. Right, thank you.” He hung up and tossed his phone onto the desk. “Gods above.”
“That’s an awful lot of trouble for a simple tomato plant, don’t you think?” Gale asked. “Though I must admit I admire your dedication to the craft. Last time I couldn’t get my hands on an item for a lecture, it was because Candlekeep decided to be difficult.” Filch raised his eyebrows at him.
“Is this about Elminster? I’d say that an heirloom tomato plant is far less dangerous than that nonsense. That new spell of his nearly burned down a Waterdeep lab.”
“Ah, well, it’s all for science, is it not?”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Dr. Dekarios.” He smiled, just to make sure Gale knew he spoke in jest. “Now, I don’t mean to kick you out of my office, but I need to track down this plant before noon.”
“Ah, very well.” Gale sighed. “I really should get back to work. I’m meant to publish in less than a month, and I am far from ready.” He dipped his head in a dramatic bow. “Farewell, Dr. Woodberry. See you at the next entirely-unnecessary meeting.”
As Gale shut the door he closed his laptop and began to gather his things. Where was this store even? He’d never heard of it, which was unusual considering his profession—but then again, he had been loyal to his plant store, Cloakwood, purely based on location alone, so it wasn’t as though he’d done much exploring. Gods knew he didn’t need another damned plant in his apartment. Now curious (mostly out of necessity) he looked it up on his phone.
Oh—it was only a couple of blocks from his apartment. How had he not known this was here?
Unfortunately his apartment was about a mile away, which meant that so was this plant store. It wasn’t terrible, but he’d have to leave now if he wanted to get back in time. That was vaguely annoying. He went back and forth with himself about whether or not it was worth it to get the plant, but in the end, his class would do better with it than without. Besides, Gale would make fun of him if he was so unwilling to break his routine.
Filch locked the door to his office and headed to the elevator. He passed a couple of other professors, a mycology professor and a biology professor, neither of whom he knew very well. He was a bit jealous of the mycology professor—if he’d had it his way, he’d be teaching nothing but mycology. But with his new book coming out in a few months and an open position in the biology department, he was stuck teaching Punnett squares. He was still a tenured professor at the end of the day though, so it wasn’t right to complain. Not to others, anyway.
Outside of the biology building (affectionately titled Floshin Biology after the famous forest-defending wizard), sun beat down on the brick walls covered in vines curling with a variety of flowers. A group of students appeared to be trying to manipulate them and struggling, the buds swerving away from their hands. Filch fought back the urge to help them—it was better if they learned themselves. He doubted their professor would want him getting involved anyhow.
The student flicked their wrist and shot out a small twine of magic. The flower absorbed it. Filch felt his heart skip a beat—oh, that wasn’t…. was it going to—
The flower swelled and vines weaved in and out into a thickening appendage, rearing up to strike with a screech.
Shit.
Filch threw his hand out and crushed the magic in his fist. A shot of vines sprung up from the ground and moved with his palm, then whipped into a restraining grip around the enraged flowers. It ballooned up as his vines choked it out from the base, and with a final crush the flower popped into a swath of golden spores.
The students coughed and waved spores away from their faces as Filch came up to them. “First of all, is anyone hurt?” They shook their heads. “Good. Now, what happened?”
“I—I don’t know sir, I was just trying to control it, and—”
“Easy, easy. It’s alright.” Filch rest a hand on the student’s shoulder—a quite young-looking deep gnome—attempting to calm them. “Are you aware of the vines' nature?” They shook their head. “Because so much magic is cast inside of this building every day, the vines have absorbed some of it over time and have become reactive when other magic touches them. I’m sorry that this happened. Your professor should have informed you of that.”
“Well, um, she did say not to use magic, but not why, and I just thought that…”
He cut them off again, trying to calm them. “Well, now you know. It’s okay now. No harm done.” Who wouldn’t tell a group of (presumably) freshmen how the vines acted? They were incredibly volatile, and freshmen were always over-excited to use their magic. Perhaps they should have paid more attention, sure, but at the same time, how were they supposed to have known better? “Who’s out here with you?”
“Our TA should be somewhere,” they replied. As if on cue, he heard feet crunching through the grass.
“Is everything okay over here?” Filch looked up—he was a youngish-looking human man, with his hair braided down the back of his head and an eye that looked like stone. “Professor Lang wanted me to catch up with you and tell you not to cast on the vines, but it looks like I was too late.” Filch frowned.
“Why don’t you all get back to managing the plants?” He said to the group. “Your TA and I can handle this from here.”
They nervously scattered off and back to the wall. The man shifted from foot to foot. “Ah… you’re Dr. Woodberry, right?”
“Oh, you can call me Filch—but yes.” He shook the remaining tingles of magic out of his fingertips, smiling. “Everything is fine. It’s not worth getting worked up over. And it’s certainly not your fault.”
“You know, I appreciate it.” He glanced to the side like he wanted to say something, and figuring he knew what he wanted to say (and lacking a filter himself) he filled it in.
“Look, Vera should have told them from the start.” And should have cleaned up her own mess, he thought. “It’s really okay.”
The man cracked a small smile at his comment. Filch had never seen this TA before, now that he thought of it. “Are you new this year?” He asked. “Or have we just never met?”
“Well, both,” he replied. “Wyll. I’m actually from the Poly-Sci department, so…”
“ Poly-Sci? ” Finch asked, incredulous. “Why on toril are you teaching…” He glanced at the students again. “What is this, Intro to Horticulture?”
“See, I had the same question. Something about them not having enough TAs to go around in the department this year… I’m not sure.”
Then shell out the money to bring more graduates to this department! Filch thought. Quit putting money into Silkball and fund your damn university properly! He condensed that down into a PhD student-appropriate answer. “Well, I don’t know that dragging you out of your department was the answer. I’m sorry you’re in that predicament.” He sighed. “Well, I’ll let you go… Wyll?”
“Ravenguard. Wyll Ravenguard.” He smiled. “Thanks for keeping me from having to file paperwork.”
“No trouble at all. And if you have any issues with Dr. Lang, I was a witness, so just let me know.”
Wyll nodded and went to help the students to the best of his ability. He seemed like a nice man.
Right. The tomato plant.
The rest of his walk went, thankfully, without incident. It was a warm, breezy day, the first signs of autumn yet to show. He passed many students and other professors as he navigated back to his apartment, though none he recognized. That wasn’t such a bad thing, if he was honest—he was in a bit of a rush now, and happened to be a tad antisocial when it came to most people.
Filch found his apartment, then worked his way over two blocks to this supposed plant store. From the storefront it seemed to him like it was more of a houseplant store than it was a garden center, but the person he’d spoken to on the phone had said that they would have what he needed, so he would have to take their word for it. Otherwise, his whole lesson plans for the day were going to be moot, and he’d have to wing it. It was far too early in the semester to be canceling class.
He looked up at the sign. ‘The Grove’, in a nice green lettering. Very well, then.
The door jingled as he pushed it open and he was hit with the smell that only came with lots of dirt and leaves—earthy, fresh, and a bit like fertilizer. He felt a little excitement in his chest despite himself; all of this, this close to his apartment? No, no, he needed to focus. There was no time to be geeking out over plants. His eyes scanned the wall, tracing over the tropicals, then the arids, before finally settling on some outdoor plants against the back wall. The aisleway to them was blocked by someone in an apron, though. The man turned his head at the bell.
“Oh, hello! Can I help you find anything?”
He was very tall. It was the first thing Filch noticed. His honey-brown hair was tied up in a knot at the back of his head with a stick in the shape of a curling vine, leaving his elven ears out to frame his face. He had some kind of a scar across the right side of his forehead, and his eyes were almost unnaturally green, vibrant in the way only elven eyes could be. He was in a turtleneck that showed off his strong upper body, and an apron with dirt smudges was tied around his waist. Filch found himself slightly taken aback for some reason he couldn’t place. It took him a moment to remember he’d been asked a question.
“Ah… yes, actually. I was sent your direction by the folks at Cloakwood. She said you might’ve had a tomato plant? Heirloom, specifically? I need it for a lecture.”
“A lecture?” The man mirrored. His voice, somehow, managed to be gruff and gentle at the same time. “I take it that you’re teaching at Waterdeep University?” He gestured at the back wall he’d accidentally blocked before. “We just got some in this morning. Take your pick.”
“Wonderful—thank you.” He thumbed through them, searching for one that was fine enough for a simple lecture and could survive student scrutiny. Something odd inside of him wanted to be chatty, and without thinking, he continued. “You would not believe the ordeal I went through to get here. I’d hardly gotten two steps out of Floshin when a student decided to aggravate the vines.” He paused. “Sorry, I think I’ve presumed you know what I’m talking about.”
“Not to worry. As a matter of fact, I do! I finished my PhD there just a few years ago—Physiology and Ecology of Horticultural Sciences.” Filch paused his search for a moment, surprised. He had looked to be closer to his age, not that that had ever stopped anyone before. But it was strange they’d never met. “Those vines never gave me trouble, but that’s only because Rath explained them to be ‘gremishka, but in a plant-like form’.” He laughed. “Good times.”
“Did you study under Rath? I hear rumors that he’s retiring soon.” Filch pulled out a plant with a good mix of tomatoes in different life stages. This one would be a great visual for the students.
“Yes, Rath was my supervisor. He was wonderful—we still keep in touch.” He tilted his head. “What do you teach? I’m surprised that I never worked with you.”
“Well, I mostly teach mycology, usually. We’re a bit short this year, so I’ve got a 100-level this semester. Just a basic biology course. Which is why I need this.” He set the tomato plant on the counter. “I’ve found the class is rather visual, so they’ve had more success when I use tools like this.”
“That makes sense. I’m a visual man myself.” He rang it up and slid it into a paper bag. There were soft smile lines along his cheeks. Suddenly though, his face fell, like he was debating something. “Hm. Do you get funding to pay for this?”
“Oh, no. Gods no.” Filch laughed humorlessly. “But it’s only a plant. It’s not the end of the world.”
The owner looked at him and sighed, then pushed the plant forward. “Please just take it. I wouldn’t feel right charging you for it.”
Filch paused with his wallet in his hand, taken aback. “What? No, no. I can’t do that. Don’t be ridiculous.” He pushed it back towards him. “I’ll pay you. You have a business to run.”
“Sure,” he retorted, “but you shouldn’t have to pay out of pocket for a lecture you have to run. So take it.”
A touch of irritation mixed with a strange playfulness washed through him. What was this man doing? Did he not value the sanctity of his business? Why him of all people? “Absolutely not. Take my money.”
“ What is going on out here?”
Their argument was interrupted by a voice from the back room. Hearing it, Filch forgot his train of thought entirely. “ Jaheira? ”
An older woman with long, gray hair neatly done into small braids in parts walked out from behind the counter. “Ah, I thought it was you, professor!” Filch watched the store owner’s head swivel back and forth between them.
“Do you know one another?” He asked.
“Know? Filch was my colleague for thirty years!” Jaheira grinned. “Don’t bother arguing with Halsin. His mind is set now, stubborn old bear.”
Halsin.
“Well, I think Halsin shouldn’t underestimate just how stubborn I can be.” He slapped his money down on the counter, and Jaheira laughed.
“I’m afraid it’s true. He is rather stubborn, from what I remember.”
“Hm… very well.” Halsin reluctantly took the money and deposited it into the cash register, handing him his change. His hands were surprisingly clean all things considered. Clean, and just a little calloused. “But don’t expect me to submit next time you need something. I won’t allow it.”
“We’ll see about that,” Filch muttered. “Jaheira, as much as I’d love to stay and chat, I’ve got a lecture in thirty. But I feel as though I should tell you that I live two blocks away from here.”
“Do you? Small world. We will catch up when you have the time, then.”
“Of course.” He glanced back at Halsin again, surprised to see him give him a soft smile. “Ah, yes, thank you for the plant. You are a lifesaver.”
“Any time,” he replied. “I’d be glad to see you around again, if you wish. I’m sure Jaheira could help us connect the dots between everyone.”
“Yes… of course.” Filch cleared his throat. “Well, I need to be off. Good to meet you.” He gave a quick wave and hurried out the door, suddenly feeling awkward.
The rest of Filch’s day had been blissfully uneventful compared to the morning’s escapades. The lecture went well, the students were excited to dissect (and eat) heirloom tomatoes, and he felt as though he’d gotten the information he needed to get across, across. That had all been fine and good. It was only when he had settled down in the evening from working on his book that his mind began to wander to strange places.
First off, he couldn’t believe he’d run into Jaheira again. He’d had little contact with his old colleague since she had retired, so it was good to see she was doing well. She seemed happier, he had thought as he rummaged through his wine cabinet, than she had been while teaching. She had been a good teacher, but that was a moot point if she didn’t love it.
Filch slid a wine glass off of the rack. Then there was the other half of his thoughts; The Grove itself—no, the owner. Halsin. Recently graduated from Waterdeep, now running a business, and someone he’d never met despite having studied for five or six years and having been a peer of Jaheira’s. Not to mention that The Grove itself was, apparently, only two blocks away. His loyalty to the store closer to Floshin had kept him (or perhaps saved him?) from buying even more house plants. Well, it had, anyway. Not anymore.
He took a sip of his wine and settled into the armchair by the window, watching the sun dip beneath the buildings. Now he could read for fun instead of for work. Even if that ‘for fun book’ was a study on gremishka— Gremishka: Interactions With Healing Magics .
Gremishka. What had Halsin said about gremishka? Oh, the vines. Gremishka, but in a plant-like form.
Upon second thought, perhaps he’d read something else.
Annoyed, he stood up and shelved it. There was absolutely no reason that store should have been on his mind. There had been nothing notable about it.
Gale : so, jaheira tells me she ran into you today
Filch raised his eyebrows and pulled his phone out of his pocket as it buzzed. He sighed—how in the hells did this get around to Gale already?
You : Gale, who even told you this?
You : I mean, it IS true.
Gale : I think that jaheira texted vera, who gave her my number because she didn’t know yours lol
Gale : all of this to say can I give jaheira your number?
You : Yes, you can give Jaheira my number.
You : Why does Vera have YOUR number??
Gale : I have no idea lmao
He tapped his fingers on the chair, taking another long drink. This whole thing was making him anxious. He decided that even if Jaheira texted him tonight, he’d ignore it until tomorrow. It was the only way he could relax himself for the time being.
Gale : btw, I hear you had a run-in with the vines lmao
You : Well, it was VERA’S fault for not warning her students, but you didn’t hear that from me.
Gale : ofc she conveniently left that part out lmao
You : Of course she did.
You : Have you met Wyll Ravenguard? Nice man, new PhD student I think
Gale : oh, I have! well, I haven’t met him, but
Gale : he works with lae’zel, who is shadowheart’s gf if you remember
Gale : they’re both in poly-sci
Gale : but yes he’s a first year phd student
Gale : his dad is on the council in baldur’s gate lmao
You : Seriously? Nepotism hire?
Gale : oh no, he’s really smart
Gale : there are rumors that he doesn’t even talk to him anymore, but idk
You : Well, that’s unfortunate. Hope he’s doing better here.
Filch set his phone down on the table and kept thumbing through his books. Something on mushrooms was always a safe bet—it was his specialty, after all. His dissertation had been on torchstalks, bibberbangs, and timmask, and their relationship with the surrounding environment in the Underdark. He’d made a particular point that they had benefits beyond being hazardous to careless travelers, and while it sounded so simple now, it hadn't been talked about so commonly at the time. He had much more sophisticated literature on the subject now of course. Reading his old work from his twenties wasn't always his favorite activity.
Finally, after ages of rustling around and answering texts, he found himself settled down with his book and a new glass of wine. He pushed the whole ordeal firmly out of his mind and let a light buzz take over. It was a Friday night anyhow; there was no harm.
It was only when he was about to go to sleep that he saw the first text appear from Jaheira. He flipped over in bed—that was a problem for himself tomorrow.
Jaheira : You should stop by the store again sometime
Jaheira : We need to catch up!
Jaheira texted exactly how he’d expected her to. Blunt, and straight to the point, without bothering to check if it was him first. What he had not taken her for was the overly-social type. And even then, why the store? That stupid, godsdamned store. He could question how it stayed open, but it had very much been thriving when he had been there. So was Halsin prone to frequent fits of charity, or was that just him?
He paused, then took a long swig of his coffee. That was an absurd prospect.
You : Sorry Jaheira—I didn’t see this last night
A lie, of course.
You : What days do you work? Like I said, I live very close by
Why did he say that? But then again, what was he supposed to say? No?
Jaheira : Stop by this morning? We’re here already
We?
A cold realization sunk deep into his bones. It quickly grew warm, almost too hot, running across his skin. It wasn’t even a realization, really. More like acceptance after twenty-four hours of denial. The talking, the banter, the stubbornness. Halsin.
He’d been flirted with, and Jaheira had watched it happen.
A wave of nausea washed over him. He couldn’t go back there. Not now, not ever. He never wanted to see Halsin ever again.
You : Look, Jaheira, why don’t we just get coffee somewhere sometime, so you’re not so occupied?
Jaheira : Occupied? Hardly. It never gets busy—just a constant stream of customers throughout the day
Jaheira : It would be no trouble at all
There was a minute of silence on her end as Filch stared at his phone. Then she said:
Jaheira : Don’t tell me you’re trying to avoid Halsin. He really enjoyed talking to you yesterday
Jaheira : Won’t shut up about hoping you’d come back in, ha
Shit .
You : Jaheira, you know how I feel about this.
Jaheira : Now, I never said that
Jaheira : YOU did
You : Well, I mean it regardless. He seems lovely and all, but I am not going to be what he wants.
This needed to stop, now. Before it could escalate. And if that meant being crass with Jaheira, then so be it.
He poured himself another cup of coffee, not bothering to put creamer in it as he sat down at his desk and got back to work. On a Saturday. At nine in the morning.
Jaheira : Look, Filch. I know how you feel about putting yourself back out there. I understand intimately, and you know that.
Jaheira : But he is a good man, and I saw the spark between you two with my own eyes yesterday. I will drop the matter. It is just something to consider.
He wound up never answering her.