Fucking hells. Something is definitely trying to beat its way out of my skull. I wake slowly beneath a heavy blanket, one arm trapped beneath me and my face half-buried in a pillow that smells faintly of tavern dust. For a few breaths, I didn't move. Moving right now feels like a mistake that might end in death.
Then my heartbeat strikes behind my eyes again.
"Fuuuuuuuuccckkk…" I groaned into the pillow.
The morning light slips through a gap in the curtains and cuts across the room in one bright, hateful line. Unfortunately, it lands directly over my face. The gods do hate me today. I tried shutting my eyes again.
My mouth tastes like something crawled into it during the night and died. My tongue is dry enough to sand timber. There is an ache in my shoulders, another in my back, and a particularly terrible pain along my left hip that suggests I have been dropped on the floor.
"Fuck me," I croaked. Even my own voice hurts.
I stayed where I am for a while and attempted to remember whichever god handles punishment for drunken stupidity has chosen to murder me slowly. Then last night started returning in pieces.
I remember a bowl of stew thick with meat and vegetables. Bread still warm enough to steam when I tore it open. Fat sizzling around the edges of roasted pork. I ate like a starving animal.
Then the ale… Dark, bitter, and cold.
Then another.
And perhaps a third.
Maybe four.
Five would be irresponsible, so it was probably five.
It has been a while since I had a proper cosy dinner. I don't remember anyone trying to poison me, arrest me, rob me, or call me a monster. At least… I do not remember them doing so.
I remember Luna sitting with me through dinner. She drank water like the painfully sensible creature she is, occasionally watching me over the rim of her cup. I think I offered her ale but she refused multiple times. I may have said that elves were cowards.
I also remember across the room, Claudemund spending most of the evening talking to Marna. About what… I have no fucking idea. Merchant's daughter shit, I suppose. I remember seeing her seated near the counter with her back straight and her hands folded looking like she's attending some serious meeting rather than sitting inside a tavern. Marna kept leaning close to hear her over the music and talking. Claudemund looked far too sober.
I remember deciding I did not care what they were discussing. Though, despite the pain currently devouring my skull, I think I had a good night. There was a lot of laughter, fiddle music, arm-wrestling… Yes. There was a broad-shouldered farmer planting his elbow in front of me and grinning like he'd already won. His friends crowded around us, shouting wagers while Luna moved the cups out of the way. His grin disappeared as I slammed his hand on the table.
After that, there were more challengers. Three? Four? Bah. I won them all, that's what matters. I drag an arm out from beneath the blanket and immediately regret the effort. My arm is sore… Fuck.
There is a small washbasin on a stand near the wall. Beside it sits a clay pitcher and a folded cloth. The distance between the bed and the basin cannot be more than six steps but it looks like a journey across enemy territory.
I pushed myself upright but the room started spinning so violently that I had to grab the mattress with both hands.
"Gods, that's some strong shit last night," I complained.
The room kept spinning so I waited until it didn't and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My axe seems to be propped safely against the wall. Someone has folded my outer clothes and placed them over the back of the chair.
I tried to stand, sway, and take one careful step. My hip protests… There is definitely a bruise there. I limped towards the basin, gripping the furniture whenever I can. The water in the pitcher is cold but I poured some into the bowl and splashed it over my face.
"Shit." I braced both hands against the stand and let water drip from my chin.
How the hells did I get up here?
I remember Luna leaving first. She had placed one hand on my shoulder and told me she was going to bed after I told her I was not tired.
Then—
Music.
A fresh mug in my hand.
The staircase.
"Oh."
The memory comes slowly, blurred around the edges by ale. Claudemund has one of my arms slung over her shoulders.
No. That cannot be right. I would crush her.
Perhaps she has both hands wrapped around my wrist instead. I remember my feet scraping against the floorboards. I remember the world tipping backwards followed by a hard thump and Claudemund shouting.
I clamp a wet hand over my mouth as laughter escapes me. The movement made my head pound but the memory keeps coming. Claudemund hauling on my arm with all the strength in her narrow little body. Me attempting to help by pushing against the stairs and making both of us slide down another step. She was definitely muttering words she absolutely did not know when we first met.
"Move, you fucking enormous—shit—wretched—dragon—bitch! Ugh!"
I laughed harder that the pain stabs behind my eyes. I had to grip the basin and wheeze through it. She had been furious… Absolutely furious.
Because the stairs were fucking steep.
…And I kept trying to sit down halfway up.
…And every time she managed to drag me onto the next step, I congratulated her. I remember telling her she was doing very well.
She told me to go fuck myself.
Our little fancy merchant's daughter is learning.
I splash more water over my face, grinning despite the hangover, feeling like a proud mother. Somehow, impossibly, Claudemund must have dragged me all the way to this room when she could have left me on the steps… although, I do not remember reaching the bed. I looked towards the neatly folded clothes. She probably did that, too.
"That was almost nice of you," I muttered. I splashed water over my face one last time.
The tavern was eerily quiet on my way down. My head still throbbed with every step so I kept one hand against the wall. For a place that had been full of noise just a few hours ago the silence felt unsettling. Reaching the bottom I looked across the common room. There was nothing – just empty chairs, a cold hearth and a sad, wet cloth beside an abandoned mug on the counter. No sign of Marna or Claudemund either.
"Luna?" I called.
"In the kitchen," Luna replied.
I turned towards the doorway behind the counter. Her voice sounds way too cheerful for someone surrounded by knives. As I pushed through the kitchen door and stop, I saw Luna standing beside a long table with her sleeves rolled neatly to her elbows. A pot simmers over the stove behind her. Chopped carrots, onions, and herbs have been arranged into tidy little piles, while several pieces of bread wait beneath a cloth. The room filled with an invigorating aroma. She glanced up as I entered.
"Well, well… Took you a while to get up, Juria."
"The fuck are you doing here?" I asked, quite confused with the scene unfolding in front of me.
"Preparing lunch!" Luna smiled, dropping some ingredients in the pot.
"I can see that…" I said.
Luna then resumed slicing a carrot as if finding her in a tavern kitchen is the most ordinary thing in the world. "You will see," she said.
"Huh?" I stepped further into the kitchen. The smell of food turns my stomach over, though I cannot tell whether it is hunger or the ale still trying to kill me. "Where's Claudemund?"
"Outside."
"Doing what?"
"You will see," Luna smiled.
"Luna…"
"Marna is showing her the shed."
"The shed…" I scratched my head out of confusion. What the fuck is happening here, really?
"You will see," Luna repeated the same exact phrase.
"Stop saying that!" I frowned as I pointed at her.
"All right," Luna said, continuing whatever she is doing now. She is being strange right now and frankly, she confuses the fuck out of me sometimes. Gods.
"Luna."
"Yes?"
"What the fuck is happening?"
"I believe Claudemund and Marna are discussing the tavern," Luna said while still focused on her cooking. "You better go talk to them directly if you want to know more."
"Okay… But also, how long was I asleep?" I rubbed a hand over my face but that only made my head hurt, so I stopped.
"It is already past midday," Luna replied as she looks towards the kitchen window, where pale daylight poured across the table. "Seems like you had a good time last night, Juria. You have slept through the morning."
Turning back towards the common room, I expected the sun to rise and confirm this insult. Luna continued stirring the pot, looking rested, clean and far too pleased with herself. Meanwhile, I felt like I'd been dug out of a grave and engaged in a midnight charade with the undead.
"Wait a minute. Why the fuck are you allowed in here anyway?" I asked. "Where's the cook?"
"There is no cook," Luna replied. "Marna runs the tavern and cooks, as far as she told me and Claudemund. Someone comes here to help her on busy nights."
"That sounds miserable."
"I believe it has become so."
It still does not explain Claudemund inspecting sheds. I frowned and turned towards the backdoor. "I'm finding out what's happening."
Cold air strikes my face when I pushed the backdoor. The yard behind the tavern is small and muddy, boxed in by a fence. Barrels stand beneath the eaves, a stack of split firewood has been covered with old canvas, and beyond it sits a low wooden shed. Lucky for me, the shed door opens as I cross the yard.
Marna steps out first, ducking beneath the frame. Claudemund followed behind her, brushing dust from one sleeve and staring back into the darkness with a focused look.
"It is a lot to fix," Claudemund said, stroking her chin, "but I suppose I can work with that."
I stopped in the middle of the yard though neither of them noticed me yet.
"Them leaks along the back wall. Used to keep barrels in there but I stopped trusting it with anythin' edible," Marna said as she gestured towards the roof.
"At the very least, the supports are still sound," Claudemund sighed. That is when I've decided I have had enough…
"Oi!" I called and both of them turned. Claudemund's expression changed from concentration to immediate irritation which is reassuring. At least one thing remains normal.
"The hells is happening?" I demanded. "Why is Luna in the kitchen?" Claudemund and Marna exchange glances. "And why the fuck are you two in the shed?"
"Because it belongs to the tavern..?" Claudemund frowned.
"I fucking know that," I said as I scratched my head, still confused.
"I needed to inspect it." Claudemund took a breath then clasped her hands behind her back and lifts her chin in that irritating manner she does before saying something ridiculous. "I am considering purchasing this establishment."
There it is. The fucking ridiculous statement.
I allowed the quiet to settle momentarily, hoping Claudemund might hear herself and reconsider her recent words. However, she didn't. All that silence accomplishes is letting some irritating drops of water fall from the roof into a bucket.
"You're doing what?"
"Purchasing the tavern."
"I heard the words, Claudemund. I'm waiting for them to make sense. None of this makes sense—"
"She made me an offer," Marna interrupted.
"When?!" I exclaimed.
"Last night, while you were having such a great time before you started drunk dancing," Marna said with a straight face.
Claudemund didn't laugh. She looks tired but there's a brightness in her eyes. Something tells me she's found a problem and worse, she thinks she can fix it. I however, think this whole thing is fucking absurd.
"Hold it right there," I said as I gestured towards the tavern, "Why the fuck are you buying this place?"
"Because Marna wishes to sell it!"
Marna's smile faltered as she glanced back at the building. I finally noticed her exhaustion though it wasn't the kind that a good sleep could fix. It looks like it settled into her shoulders.
"This place has been bleedin' me coin for months," she explained. "The council who oversees this place is now encouraging travellers and townsfolk to visit the new tavern across the road. It's got those larger rooms, new stables and even a bloody kitchen staff. They've got the pockets and that's something I simply can't compete."
"Bastards," I said.
"Aye," Marna continued. "I get a decent crowd some nights though mostly locals and travellers when the weather turns but it's not enough. A lot of shit needs fixing. Got leaks I simply have no time to look at. Every coin I earn goes straight back into keeping the place standing."
"So uhhhh… close it?" I asked.
"Well, lass, that was the plan," she replied. "Sooner or later. Sell what I can and walk away before the debts make the choice for me."
"Hmmmm… And then she started talking to you," I said pointing at Claudemund.
"I have simply asked a perfectly reasonable question," Claudemund sighed. "'Marna. Would you be interested in selling me this tavern?' I cannot see why it doesn't make sense to you, Juria!"
I genuinely can't understand how Claudemund believes she makes any sense. Fucking ridiculous. How much fucking gold does this woman have to fund all this bullshit?
"So you've sold it to her?" I asked with a visible frown and confusion from my face.
"Not yet," Marna shook her head. "Nothing's signed so far." She then looked at the shed and around the backyard. "I'm showing her the full property first including the nasty bits. If she still wants it after seeing everything wrong with the place, we go to the town clerk tomorrow to transfer the deed properly. Witness, seal, all that miserable shite."
"And she can just buy it?"
"Well, she's got the coin for it," Marna laughs. "The clerk will have the Halleyan gold weighed and valued properly before the transfer goes through tomorrow. Long as it checks out, I've got no reason to refuse it."
How many bloody fucking gold coins does she have in that purse that she can just march in and buy the damn tavern? My head throbbed again. I am beginning to suspect that thinking made the hangover worse.
Claudemund looked pleased. Most people looked at a rotting building and saw expense. Claudemund seems to see a personal challenge.
"What exactly are you planning to do with it?" I asked.
"Several things," Claudemund replied as she glanced towards the shed.
For fuck's sake, woman.
"So you're leaving, Marna?"
"Aye." There was no hesitation in it. "Once the documents are signed and the payment's settled, I'll take what belongs to me and go. Got family two towns east who've been asking me to come for years. I should've listened sooner. Whether the Gored Boar remains one afterwards is up to her. I'm selling the property, Whatever she does with it afterwards is her concern."
Claudemund walked a few steps away from us and studied the rear of the building. Her gaze travelled over the windows, the stable roof and the space between the shed and the outer fence. The little shit is measuring again. I could almost hear the whatever's turning inside her skull.
"Are you gonna run this shit?" I asked.
"That depends," she replied as she clasped her hands behind her back.
"I hate it when you talk like that," I frowned. That bloody smirk on her face just won't let go. I considered pushing her into the mud but unfortunately, that would involve movement.
"I have no idea what you mean," Claudemund said and turned towards the door before I could answer. Marna followed her inside, leaving me alone in the yard to ponder. I remained where I was, staring at the building.
It had rooms upstairs. A kitchen where we can just cook anything. A shed Claudemund could fill with whatever nightmare is living inside her head. And of course… walls! Privacy is such a luxury nowadays, especially when you've spent a long time wandering in the wilderness.
I had assumed we would remain in Brackenford long enough for Claudemund to recover and decide where she was going next. Then Luna and I would—
I stopped.
I had no idea what Luna and I would do. We had never discussed it properly.
There had always been another day of walking ahead of us, another meal to find, another place to sleep before someone decided they did not want any non-human looking being near them.
Claudemund, for gods knows why, had decided to purchase the first roof that would tolerated us.
Or maybe she had some grander plan.
With her, it was difficult to tell the difference between strategy and an impulse. By gods, if unpredictability had a physical body, it would be her.
Cold wind moved through the yard and struck the sweat still clinging to the back of my neck. Ugh. Enough thinking. My head is hurting again so I went back inside the tavern.
Luna had carried the food into the common room as four bowls sat on a table near the hearth, along with bread, butter and a pitcher of water. She had opened one of the shutters, letting grey daylight spill across the room. I groaned as I slowly sat on the chair and Luna placing a bowl in front of me. Steam rose from the broth, carrying the smell of herbs and roasted vegetables when my stomach lurched towards it with such force that I nearly forgot Claudemund's suspicious behaviour.
"Did you find your answers?" Luna asked.
"Negative," Claudemund abruptly replied, chowing down some bread like a starving child.
"After lunch, I'll show her the cellar and the old storage rooms… Then we agree on what stays with the building and what I'm taking," Marna said and poured herself some water. She then continued, "Most of the furniture can stay. Whatever food's left in storage can remain too. I've no wish to haul sacks of grain across two towns."
"And after tomorrow?" Luna asked.
"Gonna pack. Let the clerk register do the transfer and the boring shite. I hand over the keys and leave once everything's settled to you lot," Marna replied. Seems like Marna really had grown weary of this place since there were no tearful speech about the tavern or any sense of sentiment. She was tired, the place was failing, and Claudemund had offered her a way out.
Claudemund dipped her bread into the stew but did not eat it. Her eyes had returned to the building around us. She was already somewhere else. Not physically, unfortunately.
"What are you thinking?" I asked.
"The building," she replied without looking at me.
"No shit," I said, taking a huge bite of my bread.
"This establishment is quite defensible," Claudemund smiled. She then got one of her papers from her satchel with several drawings on it.
I looked around the common room.
The wide front windows would need shutters strong enough to stop more than rain while the entrance opened directly onto the street, but anyone coming through it would have to cross the whole room before reaching the stairs. The kitchen had another exit into the yard. The upper landing could be held by one person if it comes to that point.
"What the fuck do we need something defensible for?" I asked.
"Juria, we are three women travelling without any reliable shelter," she said after standing. "One of us is visibly draconian, another is an elf with ears that could poke someone's eye out, and the third has a rather severe fear of being robbed—or worse, sleeping on the fucking dirt again."
"And this solves that?" I raised an eyebrow.
"At the very least, this offers us some choices," she sighed, clearly exhausted with explaining herself.
I looked at Luna. She had heard it too, though she merely tore her bread in half and placed one piece beside my bowl. Maybe, she had known from the beginning about this. Perhaps everyone had known except me. Bah! I guess this is what I get for sleeping until midday.
"Have you got a plan? How long are you planning to stay?" I asked.
"Good question. I haven't the faintest. As long as the building remains useful, then I stay. You and Luna are welcome to stay as long as I'm undisturbed while I work," she replied, her hands on her hips and a proud smile on her face.
Claudemund returned to her food and I have grown tired of chasing the answer. Head is starting to throb again, perhaps my body's plea for more hydration, so, I shoved another spoonful of stew into my mouth.
The tavern creaked around us while the wind pressed against its walls. Once my food's finished, I sat in front of the hearth and dropped into the rocking chair, giving it one experimental push.
Shit. This is fucking comfortable.
The fire had been reduced to a lazy, dying glow and enough heat to make the rocking chair feel like a bear trap. I'm supposed to sit down only long enough for the ache behind my eyes to settle and for my head to stop ringing. Maybe close them. Just briefly.
Just—
***
I opened my eyes.
"...The fuck?"
My body had finally decided it was finished with me. Oh gods, it's fucking night time, isn't it?
The hearth had burned itself down to embers and the last stubborn pieces of wood still glowing faintly red. I pushed myself upright but a blanket slid off my shoulders and into my lap. Someone had tucked me in. Well, that's cute, but also unacceptable!
I looked around the room, kind of expecting witnesses to emerge from the shadows and confirm my humiliation. Lucky for me, it seems like I'm alone down here and the rest must've retreated to their rooms. I exhaled through my nose and scrubbed both hands over my face. The headache had finally become tolerable, though my mouth was dry and my neck really fucking hates me.
I fucking passed out again. Good job, you drunk ass.
I turned toward the windows and realised it could have been two hours… or midnight. Could have been the end of civilization for all the light I was getting. The gods above had clearly invented the sun for the sole purpose of informing people what time it was but clearly, I am not people.
I stood and folded the blanket over the back of the chair so I can make my way towards the kitchen. Someone left a small oil lamp burning near the stove, its flame turned low but steady, casting a soft ambience across the table. On it sat a covered plate. Besides it is what looks like a dinner left for me so I lifted the cover which turned out to be soup. It still felt quite warm.
"Well," I murmured. "They sure are thoughtful."
I sat there quietly eating my dinner as I hear the timber creaking and some occasional skitter of tiny feet inside the walls. Hopefully that won't be a problem in the future. If it wasn't them mouse, then Claudemund would eventually inherit a tavern with surprises… But that's a problem for future Claudemund. Not for me.
I finished the soup, wiped the bowl clean with the last of the bread, and sat there for a while. I feel so at home. Home?
Well that's a strange feeling. Better ignore that, Juria.
I finally stood and forced myself upstairs where the corridor was dim, lit only by a thin line of light leaking from beneath one door. Seems like everyone else had accepted the concept of night as a time for sleeping except for this little shit.
I should have kept walking but there are moments in life when dignity and curiosity stand on opposite sides of a very small, very stupid line. I have never been particularly good at choosing dignity therefore I stepped closer to the door.
Observing. Yes. That's me. There is a difference. Spying is immoral, I would never! Observing is what you do when someone has already crashed a flying what-the-fuck into your life, vaguely telling us who the fuck she actually is, and bought a tavern without warning.
This is a responsible caution I had to do! I started leaning in slightly when a voice drifted through the wood.
"...not going… family… ugh…"
I frowned and leaned closer. I did have a hunch that she's the type of person who would talk to herself but I never realised she's actually doing it. While listening to the muffled gibberish, her voice suddenly sharpened in a way I'm pretty sure screams an upbringing consisting of silver cutlery.
"...fuck Halleya…"
Wow
I can't help but raise my eyebrows on that.
"...no fucking way…"
A slow grin spread across my face. Well, well, well. Look at her. How I wish Luna would be as proud as I am. Our merchant's daughter was evolving into something far more entertaining. Sometime ago, Claudemund treated swearing like a foreign language, now she's alone in her room telling an entire place to go to hell with confidence.
Wait a second… Fuck Halleya? Why? Hold on now… Halleya… Right… That Halleya!
Huge human kingdom, machines, soldiers, gold, and a nation-wide allergy to anything with the wrong number ears or horns. My mother had always considered going around it way healthier than going through it.
Also, I remember Claudemund mentioned that kingdom at the first road tavern we saw. Now that I think about it, the way she looks, that weird machine she brought with her… She does fit a typical person from that shitehole.
Anyways, Claudemund kept talking but the door is thick and my hearing is not. And there is a non-zero chance my earlier ale consumption had begun contributing its own creative interpretation of events. I tried leaning in more anyway in the hopes I could catch more information about our mysterious little companion.
"What in Elandra's name are you doing???"
Every muscle in my body froze. Slowly yet painfully, I turned my head.
Luna stood several steps behind me barefoot and wrapped in a pale sleeping robe, hair loose over her shoulders. Why the fuck does she look so terrifying in the dark?! And her voice had been louder than she probably have realised.
"Nothing!" I responded immediately. Luna looked at me, then at the door… then back at me. I was, at that moment, pressed against Claudemund's room with my ear to the wood like a criminal caught mid-crime. There are lies one can recover from, this was not one of them.
Suddenly, something clicked.
"Oh, shit," I whispered.
The door opened and I had been leaning against it. This was not fucking ideal as the door swung inward, taking me with it. I landed straight on the floor followed by Claudemund staring intently at me.
"Why are you at my door, Juria?" Claudemund asked
"I was passing by," I looked at Luna, but she just raised her eyebrows at me.
"Wow, Juria! While leaning against my door?" She frowned, putting her hands on her waist. I don't know why but her angry face just doesn't look very threatening, in fact, it's hilarious.
"Passing by very closely," I said. Her face became more suspicious as she looked at Luna, then me.
"Oh my gods," she exclaimed. "Were you eavesdropping on me???"
"Nope!" I lied. I could hear that treacherous elf woman chuckling. Meanwhile, I have ran out of ideas.
"Get the bloody hells out of my room, Juria!" She snapped as she gave me a shove with her foot against my shin.
"Your swearing has improved dramatically," I laughed, pulling myself up so I can stand.
"Get the fuck out!"
"I'm so proud of you." I thought what I said was funny but Claudemund did not answer to it even though I expected another insult.
Wait a minute.
Is she actually angry? Holy shit. Claudemund, simply stood there, amusement seemingly disappeared from her face. I stopped smiling and scratched the back of my head. Luna stepped between us before I could decide whether I had crossed a line and approached between us, gently guiding Claudemund away.
"We should let you rest," Luna said, glancing while she steps closer and rests a hand lightly between Claudemund's shoulders.
"Yes," Claudemund agreed without any other argument. That bothered me more than being told to get out so I stepped into the corridor. Luna moved aside to let me pass then Claudemund began closing the door.
Stupid me caught it with my hand before she had it shut. What the fuck was I thinking. Of course, she looked up at me.
I wanted to say something, at least.
Who are you?… Too direct.
Who are you running from?… Yep. This one.
"You all right?" Ah fuck. That did not came out right. Fucking brilliant, Juria. Claudemund stared at me really confused yet the way her face look is something concerning that I haven't really seen before.
"I am fine," she replied.
"Okey-dokey," I said as I took my hand off the door but Claudemund seems to hesitate closing it. "Nighty-night then, milady," I added, mimicking Claudemund's accent.
"Goodnight."
As the latch clicked by the time the door closes, Luna and I stood there for several seconds but neither of us leaned towards her door again. Fine.
She could keep her secrets.
For now.
I followed Luna down the corridor though I glanced back once before reaching my room and noticed that the light still shone beneath Claudemund's door before I found my hand resting on the handle of my own door. Huh.
My room… yesterday it had been a rented bed. Tomorrow, it might belong to Claudemund if this shit goes through. She had already told us that we could stay without any conditions as far as I've understood but I can't help but feel like it's suspicious… but then again, it's not like I have somewhere to go, or have a town that would just willingly house someone like me. Hells, I could leave if I wanted but the comfort of bed and a roof is definitely a luxury I can't pass up.
From somewhere behind Claudemund's door came another muffled thump, followed by a very quiet:
"Fuck!"
I snorted and closed my door. Whatever that woman is hiding, she's clearly terrible at hiding it quietly.
Anyway, time for a good decent shut-eye. Definitely an alcohol free night tonight. I ain't doing that headache shit again and sleep for half the day.
"Oh for fuck's sake," I muttered to myself as I pulled the blanket on top of me, realising that a part of me enjoys this type of luxury rather than camping out in the freezing night.