Everyone gets back to the inn, and Kethas goes to pull a bath for the boy. The boy gets shy when Emlyn starts trying to get him out of his clothes a second time.
“Would you rather Benger came and helped you?” Emlyn asks.
Kluper nods, so Emlyn calls for Benger.
“I hope you had to help bathe your little brothers,” Emlyn says, and Benger nods.
“Good,” Emlyn grins, “He’s shy about me doing it, so can you help him?”
Laughing, Benger shoos Emlyn out of the bath, “This is boy stuff. Go find him something to wear.”
Hunting through her own clothing, Emlyn isn’t finding anything that will fit the boy.
Kethas pokes his head in and offers her a pillowcase that’s been modified into a makeshift tunic.
“Here,” Kethas says, “This will do for tonight. It was about ready for the rag bin anyway.”
“I seem to have acquired a page,” Emlyn shrugs, “At least I can keep the boy fed and safe.”
“Assuming he doesn’t steal us all blind and run off,” Kethas frowns, “Vorlig says he caught the boy trying to steal from him.”
“He’s starving, Kethas,” Emlyn says simply, “In those circumstances, I might be tempted to steal if I thought it meant I’d survive.”
“I’ll feed him then,” Kethas nods with a smirk, “Just one more bottomless pit.”
“I’ll have to talk to the Temple and make some arrangements for him,” Emlyn grins, “I doubt he’s had any schooling. I’ll talk to him when they’re done with the bath. There will be some rules. No stealing will be one of them. I’ll be having a chat with that orphanage too. Who turns a child out into the streets?”
“As long as you know what you’re doing,” Kethas shrugs.
“I have no idea,” Emlyn grins, “but we’ll figure it out.”
“I’ll go fix the boy some food,” Kethas laughs, “if you left him anything. I do feel bad for the little one. No child should have to fend for themselves like that.”
Emlyn goes and knocks on the bath door, handing Benger the makeshift tunic.
“This is about the best we have tonight,” Emlyn shrugs, “I’ll take him shopping tomorrow.”
When the boy emerges from the bath, he’s cleaner and looks even smaller.
“Let’s go have a talk and some food,” Emlyn says, “We need to hash out our agreement.” “What’s an agreement?” Kluper asks. “It means we’re going to make a bargain, a deal with each other. You’ll agree to do some things, and I’ll agree to do some things.” Emlyn explains. “What kind of things?” Kluper asks, frowning. “You won’t do bad things like steal from anyone, or try to hurt anyone on purpose, or lie. If you’re not sure if something is bad, you’ll come talk to me before you do it. If anyone scares you, you’ll come tell me. If anyone tries to hurt you, you’ll come tell me. Do you think you can do those things?
“I think so,” Kluper nods, “What do you do?”
“I’ll see to it that you have at least as good a place to sleep as I do. Somewhere warm, safe, and dry. I’ll take care of whatever you need. Clothes, food, schooling, and the like. In fact, we’re going shopping tomorrow. I’ll start teaching you things I know about, introducing you to people I know, and letting you see some of Harito, Tassatung, and maybe some other places with me.”
“I don’t know about schooling,” Kluper frowns, “I never liked it much at the orphanage.”
“Hmm,” Emlyn shrugs, “I’m guessing that schooling there meant something a bit different. We’ll try a few things until we find something we’re both happy with. How about that?”
Kluper thinks for a bit and then spits in his palm and offers Emlyn his hand. Emlyn repeats this and shakes.
“You have a deal,” Kluper says.
Kethas comes in with a plate of food. It’s leftover goat, flat bread, and vegetables.
Kethas sets the plate down in front of Kluper, “Here you go, boy. Eat up. You don’t have to eat it all. There’ll be more food tomorrow.” Emlyn grins as the boy tucks into his supper. The boy devours nearly the whole plate of food and is almost dozing, so Emlyn picks him up and carries him upstairs.
“He’s a half-gnome. That orphanage put him out when they realized he wasn’t human,” Vorlig says when Emlyn comes back.
“Oh gods! His parents gave him up because they didn’t want a half-breed,” Emlyn says, horrified, “like that’s somehow his fault. Then the orphanage dumped him for the same reason. What is wrong with people? Every time I lower the bar of my expectations, I find someone willing to burrow into the mud to get under it. I’ll have the Temple mages test him for magic, then. Maybe the artificers in the Taig would be a better fit for him, depending on his talents.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Not Skoril,” Vorlig shakes his head.
“Vorlig’s right about that,” Loket adds, “Skoril wouldn’t be very kind to anyone who’s not a dwarf.”
“That might not even be where his talents run,” Emlyn shrugs, “I don’t know. We’ll figure it out. He’ll have to support himself once he’s an adult, and I’d like to see if I can’t help him find something he enjoys and earns good coin so that he’s ready when he’s grown up.”
“There’s plenty of time for that, Girlie,” Gramin laughs, “Don’t start planning the boy’s life out just yet. Let him figure some of it out for himself.”
“Otrin should be back tomorrow with Henga,” Emlyn says, “and all four of you need to meet Ember. I’ve gone from having no father since grandda died to having more than I know what to do with.”
“Girlie,” Loket grins, “Gendini, Bazaline, and Narieni are your forge-mothers. Maybe Astridir, too.”
“She’s a bit wild,” Gramin shrugs, “I don’t know if I can settle her down enough to be a Clan Mother.”
“Tell me about the dinner,” Emlyn grins, “Why would you call Astridir wild? She didn’t strike me that way at all.”
“We went to dinner, and maybe she had too much wine or something. She was playing with my manly parts with her toes under the table,” Gramin frowns. “It was a bit… forward for a first outing.”
“Maybe she’s trying to make sure she’s got your attention?” Emlyn shrugs, “I know that Atres certainly was quite… bold when he meant to make sure he had mine.”
“Maybe,” Gramin says uncertainly, “I’ll try again, but I might wait a few days. I don’t really want to encourage that side of her. She seemed respectable enough at the store.”
“I have to go pick up the things they’ve made for me tomorrow,” Emlyn says, “I can try to talk to her to see what’s going on. I know that she said her taste runs to dwarven men, and if I were to look up dwarven men in an encyclopedia, they might have a sketch of you to show what they should look like.”
Chuckling at Emlyn’s description, Loket grins and elbows Gramin, “Heh! He’s been a tough one to get settled. That last girl was prim and proper.”
“Too prim and too proper,” Gramin shrugs, “She threw me over for a cleric. She said I was too wild. Me… A Clan Father… I don’t even go on trading runs anymore. This is the first time I’ve been out of the Taig in quite a while.”
“What of the one before her?” Loket asks, “What was wrong with her, eh?”
“She was a bit given to drink,” Gramin shrugs, “I didn’t want to have to haul her home over my shoulder every night.”
“Perhaps he just likes chasing them,” Atres shrugs, “and prefers not to catch one since that would mean he has to give up the hunt.”
“Know something of that, do you?” Loket grins at Atres.
“Not really,” Atres shakes his head, “With me, it was always the other way around. If anything, I’ve had trouble shaking many of them off. Some of them stalked me like I was their dinner. Fy lleidr bach is the one exception to that rule. I wasn’t sure I’d even know how to chase after a woman, but I seem to be doing all right so far. My goal is to make sure not to screw things up. She’s important enough that I think my gift would warn me.”
Kethas plops down a key, “This is for the boy. He can have his own room.”
“I’ll go move him,” Atres volunteers, “Then you can have your bed back.”
Emlyn yawns, and Atres grins, “I suppose I need to tuck you in, too.”
Emlyn blushes, and Atres chuckles while Loket and Gramin look amused. Taking the key, Atres heads up the stairs and opens the room across the hall from Emlyn’s. Pulling the covers back and fluffing the pillow, he prepares the bed for its occupant. Tiptoeing, he opens Emlyn’s door and scoops the boy up, carries him across the hall, and tucks him into bed.
Closing the door quietly, Atres turns to find Emlyn watching him.
“He never even woke up,” Atres says quietly.
Emlyn replies just as quietly, “Thank you.”
“Off to bed with you, too,” Atres says softly, “I saw you yawning. I know you’re tired.”
Emlyn nods, but before she can move, Atres cups her face and plants a kiss on her forehead, before making a shooing motion toward her door.
In the middle of the night, Kluper wakes up in a state of fright. Padding out into the hallway, he opens the first door he sees and spots Emlyn sleeping. Creeping in quietly, he slips into bed with her and is quickly asleep. Emlyn mumbles a bit and pats him before rolling over. The next morning, Emlyn starts to get up and finds Kluper. Extricating herself carefully, Emlyn gets out of bed, grabs some clothes, and ducks across the hall to dress. Atres, returning to the inn, bounds up the stairs to find Emlyn coming out of Kluper’s room. Motioning him to be quiet, she opens the door to her room and shows him the boy asleep in her bed.
“He snuck in some time last night,” Emlyn whispers and closes the door.
Tiptoeing downstairs, Emlyn grins at Atres, “I expect the smell of Kethas’s cooking will wake him up soon enough.”
Grinning, Kethas pokes his head out of the kitchen, “I expect you’re right about that. I’m a bit surprised he’s still here, but the smell of the pork strips I’m about to start cooking will likely bring him down here.”
Bringing out platters of dried fruit and pickled vegetables, Kethas sets them on the table, “I doubt he’s seen a bit of fruit or a vegetable in a while.”
Soon, more platters join the breakfast table, featuring flatbread and fried potatoes. Once the pork starts to sizzle, Emlyn hears footsteps on the stairs. Vorlig scoops up Kluper and carries him to the table. Emlyn takes a piece of each kind of dried fruit and puts it on a plate with each type of pickled vegetables, some potatoes, bread, and pork, and hands it to Kluper. “Try the dried fruit and pickled vegetables and tell me which ones you like.”
Kluper tries them and likes most of the fruit but only a few of the pickled vegetables. When everyone is done eating, Emlyn asks Atres to tuck Kluper back into his coat so that they can take him shopping. Atres does, and Atres, Benger, and Emlyn go to hail a carriage. Emlyn asks the driver to take them to a place that sells ready-made boys’ clothes. Nodding, the driver gestures for them to get in. He pulls up and drops them off in front of a shop, and Emlyn tosses up some coins. Atres follows her into the shop.
“I have a little fellow with me that needs… well… everything,” Emlyn tells the shop girl, “He needs socks, underclothes, boots, pants, one of those lace-up leather vests, a cloak, some undertunics, some tunics, a couple of belts…”
“Slow down a bit,” the girl says, “Let me see this boy.”
Atres pulls his coat back to show Kluper in his makeshift tunic.
“Oh, that won’t do at all,” the girl says, “I’m Leticia. Who are you, young sir?”
“Kluper,” the boy replies. “Well, Kluper, if you’ll come with me, I think we can get you outfitted.”
Leticia looks at Emlyn, “I assume that you’ll be taking most of this with you?”
Emlyn nods, “He’s literally got nothing other than what he’s got on.” Leticia frowns a bit at this but nods.
“My father took him away from some older boys that were beating him,” Emlyn explains, “We made the Town Guard record his injuries before I healed him. He’s got no kin, and the orphanage put him out, so it seems I’ve acquired a page. As my page, it’s my duty to see to his needs, so we’re here to buy him some clothes.”
“Oh,” Leticia says, surprised, “I’d heard that they were kicking out any of the children who weren’t completely human. I thought it was just nasty gossip. I didn’t think they were actually doing it. That’s terrible. Like those children had a say in who their parents were. It’s lucky he has you.”
“I suppose I shall have to talk to the Temple, the duke, and the prince about this,” Emlyn shrugs, “Something will need to be done about that. Otherwise, they’ll grow up and learn all the things no one wants them to know.”
“What are you thinking?” Atres asks.
Emlyn replies, “I know some of our allied sects run orphanages. It might be possible to send these children there. Perhaps there’s some other problem like overcrowding that they’re trying to solve in a rather inept way.”
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Boltir’s Atres Watch Current Count: 1 "Forehead Kiss" and 1 "Bed-Stowing Maneuver."
Observation: "Did you see that? Atres carried the sleeping boy to bed, tucked him in, and then—instead of a handshake like a civilized man—he kissed Nia on the forehead!. The audacity! He’s using 'gentle affection' to bypass her battle-hardened defenses. It’s psychological warfare, I tell you. Even Nia’s 'forge-fathers' (Loket and Gramin) look amused by the whole thing. I’m giving Atres a 'Tactical Romance' badge, but I’m spitting in my ale to balance the scales."
Boltir’s Tip Jar
Current Total: 88 coppers, a half-chewed leather strip, and Snips (the crab) is currently trying to use a discarded pillowcase as a tent.
Boltir’s Plea: "Nia says she’s going to talk to the Duke and the Prince about the orphanage. A woman with a mission is a woman who needs a bard to trumpet her virtues! Toss a copper in the jar so I can buy Snips a tiny quill—if Nia is going to start a political revolution for the 'half-breeds,' my crab needs to be ready to sign the petitions. Also, leave a review if you think Atres should stop being so 'sweet' before my beard falls off from the sheer sentimentality of it all!"
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