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Chapter Text

Saffron gripped the hilt of her wooden sword too tight. Wizard had told her that the only monsters in the secret woods were slimes, but those were bad enough. The reason it took her nearly two years to gain the steel axe necessary to get past the natural barrier was because she had barely explored the mines. She'd bought the ore from Clint in addition to having him upgrade her tools, and that took a lot of money.
There was an icy blue slime bobbing about twenty yards in front of her. Her heart rate shot up, and she deliberately took deep breaths, blowing plumes of mist, in an effort to calm herself down. In the end, she beat it to death, but she probably used too much energy in doing it.

She picked up the slime residue it dropped -- waste not, want not -- and went further in to find the valuable hardwood stumps. There was holly, too. Leah liked decorating for the seasons.
Goddamn fucking slime slipped up on her and stung her leg while she was chopping the hardwood. She wildly swiped at it with the axe, enough to get it to back away long enough to switch axe for wooden sword and beating that to death.

There was a picturesque pond still unfrozen under the trees, the shadows giving it a romantic mystique that was ruined for her by a pair of more slimes at the water's edge. She made sure to look around and saw the broken columns poking out from the snow and a huge stone statue.
It took her more time and energy than perhaps was prudent to sweep all the snow off it and the inscription. Master Cannoli, huh? Was he a dwarf? A wizard type who preferred walking hunched and obnoxiously billowy capes?
And then some fucking ass slime cannoned into her leg, stinging her again. Fucking bitch ass motherfucker goddamn shit fuck. She definitely used up too much stamina chasing and beating that one to death, angry at it and herself. She stuffed a field snack in her mouth. She needed to leave before she got herself in trouble.

But some little rustling in the barren bushes made her snatch up her bludgeon again. She whapped at the bush, hoping to scare it away, but what fell out wasn't a slime. It was a tiny little...person?
They had slime burns on their clothing, and barely enough energy to stagger upright again, braced on a skewer of a spear.

Another slime barreled out of the undergrowth, looking damaged but pissed, and Saffron made a snap decision to grab this strange little injured creature and hoof it the fuck outta there.

A motherfucking elf? This person clamped against her shoulder with one hand was perhaps sixteen inches tall, thin and delicate. They'd dropped their spear. She was exhausted, but Wizard's tower wasn't that far off.

Privately she thought M. Rasmodius was a bit up his own ass, but he did know his shit. And at least his weird green fire was warm. He virtually ignored her after he realized what she brought, muttering to himself fast and rather incoherent, but that was okay. She just wanted to sit at the hearth for awhile.

"Who are you?" the elf demanded abruptly. "Stop touching me!"At least they were okay now.

"I know your kind, human wizard. You'll demand a ransom for me!"

"Now, now, nothing of the sort. I just want to study you. Very few people see elves nowadays. We know so little about you or your magic." He was trying to sound reassuring, but that smile was just nope. "You do owe me a favor for healing you, right?"

"Whoa, creepy," Saffron said, trying to intercede. "Don't make it sound like you're blackmailing her."

"Oh, Farmer Saffron. I'll give you a little reward for giving me such an opportunity."

"No, that's okay."

"You there!" the elf demanded, stomping to the edge of the table. "Take me away from this place, or I'll curse your descendants to the third generation."

"But what will you do about the debt you owe me?" Wizard said. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want you to answer a few questions and take a sample of your magic for study."

"I'm not telling you where my people are," the elf said flatly, "but I will give you some of my magic as long as that giant over there promises to take me away from you and return me to my people."

"I accept," Wizard said promptly and made an impatient gesture at Saffron.

"Okay, I guess."

He also pulled me aside under the guise of helping to carry his magical tools from the shelf. "Be careful," he said. "You only have a touch of magic, but it's enough that she can manipulate you with. Don't ask her her name. Ask what you may call her. Don't give your name, tell her what she may call you. And it's better to use a pseudonym. Don't promise anything else if you can help it. Elves have a longstanding grudge against us 'giants.'"

Chapter Text

"So how we gonna do this?" Saffron asked. "You wanna ride on my shoulder? On top of my backpack?"

"Your shoulder will suffice." Despite her torn clothes and frazzled hair, she was acting very dignified. Saffron crouched over so that the elf could get situated from the table. She straightened slowly, feeling the elf grasp her coat and her backpack strap to keep her balance.

They were back out in the cold shortly after, and it was already mid-afternoon.

"Look, I'm fucking exhausted, and I don't want to go back in with the slimes again today. Is it okay with you if I take you back tomorrow? You can stay at my house overnight." Honestly at this point, tricksy elves sounded better than slimes right now. It was gonna get dark in a couple hours anyway.

"You--" she started to make a sharp retort, but reconsidered. "I will accept your hospitality."

"What's your--" Goddammit, Wizard had just warned her about asking her name. "What may I call you?"

There was a pause. "Lucis," the elf said. "And you are?"

"You can call me..." Shit. "...Spice." Shit shit shit shit. It was a dumb fucking nickname from her childhood, but it was the only thing that came to mind.

It was very nearly dark by the time Saffron crunched through the snow and back to her farmhouse. At least she'd managed to afford the kitchen upgrade before her second winter and didn't have to choose between spending money at the Stardrop Saloon or fucking around with cooking something on a skewer in the fireplace. Grandpa had liked open-fire cooking, when he cooked much of anything.

"What is that?" Lucis demanded sharply.

"Hmm? That's my dog." Tamerlane wiggling and whining, came to greet me from his spot on the rug by the hearth.

"What is a dog? It looks like a wolf."

"Dogs are domesticated wolves."

"Domesticated?"

"Tamed." Tam proved the point by snuggling up as best he could against her leg.

"Oh, like cuy?"

"...What are cuy?" Saffron set her down on the side table next to the couch. Tam put a paw up to ask to get on the couch, curious, but Saffron told him no. She began stowing her gear away. She didn't feel like going back outside to dump her foraging into the shipping box, but Robin would buy the hardwood direct tomorrow, and the Adventurer's Guild would buy the slime residue, unless there was something she needed it to make? She'd have to consult her journal.

Lucis was stripping off her outerwear and putting aside her gear. When Saffron turned her attention back, she faced her squarely and said formally, "You have offered me the warmth of your hearth, and I will abide by the laws of hospitality."

"...Okay," Saffron said, feeling stupid.

She thought the first order of business was to introduce Lucis to Tam properly and see how he reacted to her. He was both taller than her and outweighed her. She clipped a leash onto him and had him sit next to the side table. "Let him smell you. He's learned to behave around the ducks and chickens, but you're not actually a duck or chicken."

"Chicken?"

"...I'll show you tomorrow."

Tam showed no particular aggression, but his overeager curiosity probably meant that he would bowl her over or otherwise hurt her unintentionally. Saffron told him to go to his bed and shut the bedroom door behind him.

"Do you want help down?"

"No need to bother." She hopped from the side table to the sofa, and from there dangled her legs down and slid to the floor.

Saffron went to the kitchen. The few things she had plenty of were milk and eggs, and she had leftover bread from the other day.

"Do you live here alone, without a household?" Lucis asked, wandering over.

"It's just me and Tam. My grandfather died about two years ago and left the farm to me."

"What of your grandmother? Or your mother?"

"Grandma has been gone longer. My mom isn't interested in running the farm."

"Ah, I see. But you have no cousins nor bachelors?"

"Bachelors?"

"The buildings outside, are they not for the bachelors? Could you not keep them over the winter?"

"Honestly, I don't understand what you're saying. I'll show you the farm tomorrow morning, if you want to see."

The omelet was done, and because she had no chairs, Saffron lifted the guest to the dining table.

"I accept with gratitude the salt of your hospitality," Lucis said, formal again. It occurred to Saffron that she had no utensils suitable for such a tiny person, but Lucis pulled out her knife without hesitation and sat cross-legged in front of the saucer Saffron had placed her portion on.

The rest of the evening was in figuring out how to accommodate Lucis, bathing in the bathroom sink, setting up a bed on the couch. Saffron kept the bedroom door shut after she retired and found out the hard way that it would be worth it to get a stove for the bedroom.

Chapter Text

Lucis was up just as early as Saffron and was quietly expectant. "I know it is necessary for farmer to see to their holding before aught else, and you must do it yourself since you are alone, but might I come with you? I would like to see how it is the giants live."

"Okay, sure."

Lucis trotted after her as Saffron checked her mushroom cave and the greenhouse.

"Marvelous! This is all glass?"

"Plexiglas, not normal glass." Saffron watered her plants, especially her new seedlings from the saved fall seeds, and picked a few things like the pepper and the blueberry. It was only last summer that she had started canning.

"I see, it is not as fragile as normal glass. I wonder if my aunt knows of this."

Saffron insisted on carrying Lucis on her shoulder when they entered the fenced area around the coop and barn.

"Chickens are little cannibal shits, and ducks aren't much better."

The poultry clamored around her ankles, and Saffron felt Lucis's grip on her coat collar tighten.

"Good morning, you little fuckers," she said affectionately. She collected eggs and threw more hay into the troughs. The duck egg in the incubator was still truckin' along.

"Those are chickens?"

"Yep. I think they're a form of domesticated grouse."

"But you keep these birds for eggs? Domesti--"

"Domesticated?"

"Yes, that. It's marvelous how you have done this for things beyond keeping them only for meat, as we do cuy. Unless the cuy is trained to do labor."

"Plenty of people keep chickens or ducks for meat, too. Next is the cows."

There were one brown and three white cows who were even more friendly (or pushy) than the poultry. Saffron threw out hay before collecting the milk.

"What are these animals?"

"Cattle. They can be kept for meat, but I keep them for milk, too. I don't know if you've seen wild cattle, I think they're more a plains animal than a forest -- what's wrong?"

"You drink their milk?" Lucis sounded horrified.

"Yeah. I also make cheese with it."

"Oh, cheese! I've heard of cheese. But," Lucis frowned, "it's made with milk? For babies?"

"I'll show you."

Saffron took her to the shed, threw a few of her gleanings into the chest by the door. One of the cheese presses was finished, and she took it out to show Lucis.

"Cheese is supposed to be a magnificent food, but if it's made from milk..."

Saffron sliced off a bit with her pocketknife. "Just try it."

And with that, Lucis seemed to be convinced of the validity of the concept of dairy. "Might I have some to take to my aunt? I cannot repay you now, but I do not mind a debt to an honorable giant like yourself, instead of that unkept wizard bachelor."

Saffron geared up and began walking with Lucis to the forest again. Lucis glanced down at her wooden sword. "You are not a fighter, then? I wonder you do not keep bachelors for that, at the least."

"One of these days I'll figure out what you mean, but my combat level's not high. I could buy a better weapon, I suppose, but I've been putting all my money into improving the farm."

"Farming is respectable. I cannot help but be impressed by all the animals you keep. But I have been thinking of how to repay your hospitality. I can make that wooden sword of yours into a better weapon by instilling it with magic."

"That would help a lot."

"Then let us stop here for a moment, where it is still safe."

They were under the flowering cherry tree near where the traveling merchant lady parked her cart. Perhaps one of these days, Saffron would ask her name, but she felt like she'd missed the window in the first year and she'd have to fortify herself against the mortification.

Lucis looked about, found a sprig of holly and a pebble, and asked Saffron to lay her wooden blade out on the ground, hilt towards her. She wrapped the pebble in the holly leaves and concentrated. There was a bright burst of light, and she shoved the incandescent bundle in her hands onto the hilt of the sword. After another bright burst of light, the sword transformed into an elegant weapon with a bright green gem on the pommel.

"Holy shit!" The blade was actually sharp now, more like steel. Petrified wood? "Thanks a lot, Lucis."

"Don't thank me," Lucis said with a sharpness that took Saffron off guard. "It is repayment for the hospitality, nothing more."

They continued into the secret woods. The churned snow was the only indication that slimes had been here, and Lucis found her spear again. Saffron handed over the portion of cheese.

"Would you like another form of protection against slimes, as repayment for this?" Lucis asked.

Saffron had been worrying about what to ask for, and the suggestion was welcome. "Yeah, that sounds great, actually."

"There is a magic ring that nullifies slime attacks. However, it would take time for one to be made to fit a giant, but I have a cousin who is a talented goldsmith."

"Magic ring? That sounds like a high price for one cheese."

"Magic is a common thing for us, but it will take perhaps a season to get it made. And I ought to get one for myself." She frowned. "I do not like to be indebted to my cousin, but I truly do wish to be an adventurer." She looked up again, smiled for the first time Saffron had ever seen. "Farewell, Spice. Meet me here again on the fifth day of spring."

Chapter Text

Saffron did chop a bit more hardwood before she left the forest. Robin lived the fuck on the other side the valley, so it was probably worth it to down some of the coffee she bought at the saloon. She did stop by Leah's house to drop off some holly and promise to come for a drink at the saloon the next evening.

She exchanged greeting with the people she did see as she jogged through town. Shit, was it Tuesday? Robin did cardio at Pierre's on Tuesday. But Pierre's was closed. She checked her digital watch. It was Wednesday.

She exchanged greetings with Robin and Demetrius and sold Robin the hardwood.

"How's the house upgrade working for you?"

"I love the kitchen, but I think I want a wood-burner for the bedroom."

Robin gleefully flopped her catalog onto the counter. "Sounds great to me."

"Shit, I've also thought about expanding the barn, too."

She produced her other catalog with another smile.

Saffron chewed at her thumbnail while she looked at prices and checked her journal for her current bank balance. Something caught her eye in one of the catalogs. "Slime hutch?"

"It's used for raising slimes."

"But why?"

Robin shrugged. "It's good money. That hutch requires some rare materials, but it has to stand up to slimes, after all. I think that guy at the Adventurer's Guild knows more."

"I'm headed there anyway, I'll ask." Saffron closed the catalog. "Imma hafta think on the wood-burner and the barn some more."

"Fair enough, big investment."

She greeted Linus in passing, dug up a snow yam on her way to the guildhall. She glanced at the mines. Once the Junimos fixed the bridge to the quarry, she'd gotten her ore from there instead of the mines, but it was pretty sparse and inconsistent. Maybe with better gear she could try the mines again.

"Long time no see, kid," Marlon said.

She sold him the slime residue. "Hey, have you ever seen an elf?"

"What?"

"Have you ever seen--"

"Don't say the name!" Marlon interrupted. "Are you stupid? It'll attract their attention. I've seen some of the Neighbors, but not the Forest Folk. Some of the lesser spirits, also the Sea Folk who come to the Night Markets."

"Oh you mean the mer--"

"Shut it! Call me superstitious, but I don't like risking it even with the Sea Folk, and they're friendly."

Saffron was willing to change the subject. "Different question, then. Have you raised slimes before?"

"Yeah." He didn't look happy. "I wouldn't recommend it at your level. That is how I lost my leg."

"What the fuck?" At least Marlon didn't mind when she let a curse word slip.

"And that was due to interference from the Neighbors, too. A lot of them hold grudges against humans."

She left soon after, ignoring Linus like he preferred she did. There was a little time to do some quarrying before she ought to head home.

Chapter Text

And so she did go back to the mines with a backpack full of egg burritos she cobbled together from omelets, tortillas, and cheese. The remedies at the clinic were still too rich for her blood.

Rather than taking the elevator down to the lowest cleared floor, she started at the shallowest levels. She needed to practice a better technique than flailing at a thing until it died.

The forest sword was lots better than her plain wooden blade. Maybe she should've kept that steel smallsword she'd found one time, but it was pretty much the same level as her wooden blade and she'd sold it to fund building the barn.

She could slice deeper into the slimes. She managed a one-shot kill once with a thrust, damaging the little, greener core of the green slime. Bugs were still a giant pain in the ass. Archery probably wouldn't do any good in these confined spaces.

And one of those little goons dropped a very interesting tool, a small glow ring. She remembered very well why she'd noped out after the 30th level. Too damn dark, and torches barely helped. This would even the odds against those golem shits.

And so she cleared another five floors before she decided that was enough. She had earned herself a stop at the spa before going home. Linus wasn't in the foyer for the warmth; he must have gone home already. It was kind of a pity that no one besides Alex used this place much. Maybe she should invite Leah some time, maybe bribe her with wine.

A little more than a week later was the Night Market. She'd seen the merm-- Sea Folk show before, but this time, rather than just being taken on a trippy-ass experience, she tried to pay attention to the players behind the curtains. She wasn't sure if she was all that successful.

The Sea Folk seemed to be aware of her attempt to wade beyond the flow, but it didn't faze them a bit. The flirtiness she remembered took on a more feral, metallic glint in their eyes and their eyeteeth, but it wasn't malicious. Just a very trickster sort of amusement.

She chewed on that while she looked at the art, bought some seeds early, and especially when she took the undersea dive. Fishing wasn't her favorite, but she'd gotten good at it, and it made decent money, and these weird-ass deep fish made some especially decent money. She tried keeping an eye out for Sea Folk in the deeps, but it was probably super simple to avoid a slow, lit-up clunker like this.

Did she wanna get involved in that stuff? Just three weeks ago, she was leery of getting even tangentially involved with slimes, and slimes were some weak-ass, low-level shit.

And she'd gotten Elliot as her secret giftee this year. She wasn't sure if Elliot even liked her much. They only hung out when they were both hanging out with Leah, and when they got going about crunchy granola hippie shit, he looked like he felt like a fifth wheel.

She had an idea to make him a fancy quill pen out of a duck feather. It seemed a bit extra, but he also seemed a bit extra. He had nice hair, tho. She'd chopped off her hair into a butch short cut after she'd quit her city job and moved out here. She was a bit envious of his luscious mane. Maybe she should invite Elliot to the spa party with her and Leah. If she remembered right, he could be bribed with wine, too.

***

And then she had that weird dream on New Year's Eve about Grandpa. She dreamed he'd approved of her development of the farm, but that he was a bit disappointed that she hadn't become a bigger part of the community. She was kinda sour about it, but maybe dream-Grandpa had had half a point. She hadn't meant to turn into such an antisocial hermit.

She guessed she'd been in survival mode for a long time. At Joja, it was a need to survive the mental/emotional exhaustion. She'd earn money to pay the rent but also for treats to make working at Joja worthwhile, and that took up the rest of her budget. She'd didn't have more than a couple hundred in savings.

And then once she'd gotten to the farm, she had been in a different survival mode. It felt powerful, to scratch your living out of the soil and to make a great deal of your own things, but it was also hugely physically exhausting. She'd often gone to sleep when it was still light outside because she was so exhausted, even this last summer. She went to the local festivals, but not much more than that. She'd had good intentions about the spa party, but it hadn't happened. It was probably a worthwhile resolution, to make more of an effort to be sociable.

Chapter Text

Planting took up the first few days of the spring season, but Saffron was ready for the meeting on the fifth. Once in the deep woods, she cleared out the lurking slimes and foraged a few mushrooms. They'd never specified a specific time of day, so she decided it would be a good use of waiting time to also fish. There was supposed to be a specific kind of fish here that the Junimos wanted as tribute in the community center.
She'd never gotten an entirely clear idea of what Junimos were. They were about the same size and shape and color as slimes, and they both lived in wild or abandoned places. They were both magical. Slimes were often aggressive towards humans, Junimos seemed passive. Junimos were intelligent, slimes didn't seem very smart, but how were they compared to, say, a dog? Was it possible that Junimos were an evolved form of slimes? She'd have to ask Wizard about that.
Lucis hallooed her as she emerged from the bushes around the statue. She had someone with her.
"Well met, Spice!"
"Hey."
"I have what I promised, but I wish to ask about the monsters in your giant lands. Is there good hunting nearby?"
"The old mines have a bunch of monsters living there, if that's what you mean. I've had better luck since you upgraded my sword. It's helped me get a lot more metal ore."
"Might I ask you to take me there?"
Saffron paused.
"I will reward you suitably. You wish for ores? That can be granted."
"The monsters are more my size than yours," Saffron hedged.
Lucis considered it. "That should be expected, I suppose, to suit themselves to their environment. But I brought a good magic wielder," she indicated the someone with her, a bony elf man that was taller than Lucis but still only about seventeen inches high, "and there is an old magic we once used when we were among giants more."
Shit. So much for avoiding more entanglement with the Forest Folk.

"Before that, Brome," Lucis commanded.
The one called Brome brought forth a golden ring with a single cut green stone out of his pack and presented it with a bow to Saffron. She put forth a hand and let him set the ring on it.
Frowning, she tried it on different fingers. "How big did your cousin think I am?"
"She has never seen a giant, after all. Though it was clever, I thought, how she tried to determine size from the proportions in old art with giants in it. Perhaps you are small for a giant?"
"I'm fairly average, for a woman. What is this stone?"
"It was cut from petrified slime."
"Huh." She turned it in her hands once more. "I might be a good enough crafter to adjust the size, but would that affect the magic?"
"I do not believe so."
For now, she hung it on a string around her neck.
"Were you wanting to monster-hunt today?"
Lucis paused. "It is an imposition, but I wish to stay with you for perhaps a fortnight, and hunt whenever possible. I would pay you in at least half of the monster spoils, and this bachelor can also do labor to earn his keep."
Shit. Shit shit shit. But the loot was tempting. Monsters sometimes dropped gems, and even if it was just a bunch of ore, that would be pretty profitable. She could upgrade the barn. She could upgrade the shed.
It was hard to make good boundaries with the Neighbors if they cursed or maimed the people who displeased them. Maybe she'd better learn protective magic from Wizard, even if that meant dealing a lot more with Wizard.
So she left the deep forest carrying a woodskip fish and trailing two Forest Folk. They had to take maybe four steps for each of hers, but they seemed to have excellent stamina.
"I don't know how that size-changing spell works, but would it be easier to set it sooner rather than later?" she asked.
So Lucis had Brome cast the magic, changing Lucis to nearly Saffron's height and changing himself to over six feet tall. A still bony-thin and awkward over-six-feet. The chanting was the first time she'd heard him speak, but he had a rich baritone voice that seems a bit at odds with his appearance.
It was the next day that they went raiding. She and Lucis were feeling out their different authorities based on their separate expertise. There was surprisingly little conflict about it, but maybe that was due to her guests' conscientiousness about hospitality rules.
She had told them about Pelican Town and the other people in the valley. She had come up with convenient fictions for them to tell the others about their origins. They were internet friends from abroad who were visiting. She had also showed them what the internet was on her laptop, but neither of them seemed terribly interested. They were more interested in Tamerlane and how he obeyed commands. Mostly, after you got his attention.
She wrote letters to Wizard -- to warn him to keep his trap shut -- and Lewis to prime the news grapevine so maybe she wouldn't have to tell the story thirty times.
But now they were at the mouth of the cavern in the quarry, the spooky one that she'd looked in once and promptly noped right on out. Lucis was almost glinting with anticipation. Brome had a plain shield made of wood faced with leather.
"You don't have a weapon?" Saffron asked him.
He was still cautious about speaking to her, but replied, "My purpose is to support the fighters with magic. Shields, healing."
"Is there any fighting magic?"
Lucis grinned. "That's the skill I intend to hone here, where there are not three elder cousins with whom I must take turns being the mageodrinnan."
Saffron was more than happy to let Lucis take the lead down the spooky ladder. Brome came up the rear, but also provided a floating magic light ball to augment the beam cast by her small glow ring. Super handy.
The slimes here were weird and dull-colored. They seemed to be sturdier than the average slime she'd encountered so far, but Lucis was taking point with her spear, and Saffron was doing her best to tank along behind her.
They dropped gold ore! And one weird purplish ore that glittered strangely. Was this iridium ore? Holy shit.
And then the flying skull ghouls came. The only thing that kept it from being absolute fucking bullshit was the magical shield Brome conjured around them. They rarely swooped into Saffron's limited reach with her sword, but even Lucis was casting magic blasts at them with a pointed finger rather than trying to stab them with her short spear.
"Wait, what the hell is that?" Saffron stared at a statue of the Grim Reaper. Who put this here? Why? Was there some kind of fucken death cult in the area?
Brome put a hand on the statue, and a blinking bright-ass light enveloped them. When her vision cleared again, Saffron saw they were at the entrance of the cavern again.
"Transportation magic," Brome commented. He was holding the gold-colored scythe the Grim Reaper statue had been holding. He didn't look like he knew why the hell he was holding it, and he passed it over to Saffron with a look of relief.
"Welp, pretty sure I can find a use for this." Saffron wiped her face with her shirt sleeve, saw the soot that came off with the sweat.
She'd gotten enough gold to upgrade her tools again and enough iridium for a single block, and a few assorted bits of copper and iron. She'd never had this kind of luck in ores before, and she wondered how much of it was due to her guests' influence.
She wondered what she'd do with a single block of iridium.

Chapter Text

They'd gotten into a rhythm by the end of the first week. Saffron and Lucis shared the bedroom, and Brome slept in front of the fireplace in the living room. He diligently helped in the kitchen, and he wasn't bad at it at all. He also helped with the farming and the poultry, but the cattle spooked him. Like Lucis, he was somewhere between fascinated and gobsmacked by the sheer extent of the giants' practice of domestication, but unlike Lucis, his interest held beyond Tamerlane.
This time around, Lucis's sense of guest-duty didn't extend to farming help, probably because Brome was there, but she gladly came along and explored while foraging. They went into town a little, but they were still wary of the other "giants." When Saffron went to the saloon, she'd still had to field good-natured but still pretty nosy interrogation about them.
Robin cornered her next to Leah and Elliott and pulled out her building catalog with a significant grin.
"Is it feeling crowded in your house yet? Yanno, if you want to do this farm-help thing more often, you should try a guest cabin. There's a in the town agriculture fund -- makes it cheaper than adding a second floor, though it doesn't have a kitchen. Just enough to plug in a hot plate or a microwave or whatever."
Saffron flinched, still a little mentally scarred from the barrenness of microwave eating. Every once in a while, she'd overcome her mental scarring about JojaMart long enough to grab a few microwaveable meals, and it wasn't like Pierre stocked convenience foods much beyond dehydrated potato flakes.
She idly flipped through the catalog and found the page for the slime hutches again. Welp, it was something to do with a single bar of iridium. She jotted the details down in her journal, along with the guest cabin details.

"Mistress Spice, could I have a word with you?" Brome asked the next day.
She still hadn't managed to get him to stop calling her "mistress" (and it made her feel super weird), but it was still pretty rare that he addressed her directly without it being a question about work.
"What about?" She put down the duck.
"Might I...stay with you beyond the next week?"
That took her aback, and he could see it.
"I still wish to work for you."
"Well, you've definitely been helpful. Lucis, too?"
He paused, shook his head. "No. I mean, I am not one to bid Mistress Lucis's doings, and I do not think she intends to stay beyond the next sevennight. I wish to stay as a bachelor in your fold. I know it is unexpected, and it is likely an imposition, but even if you do not answer me today, please consider it."
She couldn't quite interpret the look on his face before he bowed deeply and ducked out the door of the coop. But they followed their usual schedule, and he went to tend in the greenhouse while she took care of the cows.
It was later that night, while they were doing dishes and Lucis was doing drills outside in the yard that Saffron broached the subject again. "If you want to stay, I don't mind."
"Truly?"
"You have been helpful. But why -- no, I won't ask why. That's not really my business."
He set down the dish towel and knelt with his arms held out in a formal posture. "I pledge myself to the welfare of your hearth and fold."
Saffron felt stupid again, holding a dishrag and a dripping fork. "Okay."
Lucis wasn't offended at all. In fact, she seemed glad as they talked while getting to bed. "You do need to build a household. I wonder that you never took in some of these unkept bachelors hereabouts and put them to good use. Like that fellow at the beach."
"Elliott? I don't see him as being much use on the farm."
Lucis snorted. "What use are men except to be worked? But," she got onto a topic obviously more interesting for her, "you ought to get a new weapon. These monsters we meet in the mines now are strong enough that your sword is not sufficient."
"I've been using the slingshot more often," Saffron said meditatively. "I dunno if that's worth it."
"It is," Lucis said decisively.
She didn't feel like arguing, but Saffron had a sentimental attachment to that Forest Sword. It occurred to her at 2 AM that she didn't have to trade it in to buy a new weapon, that she could just buy one from Marlon outright. Cheapskate ways died hard.

Chapter Text

Saffron had been present for the Egg Festival, but not much else. It had been nice to get away from Lucis and her expectations for a bit – her guests had been, and Brome still was, leery about being around other giants.

“Well, you look less tired for this festival,” Leah said, picking lint off the shoulder of her white dress. “Any chance of you dancing this year?”

“I doubt it. How many people actually like this festival? At least half of everyone only seem to go through the motions with a partner who won't hold it against them.”

“Well, I can't say you're wrong. I think it's a nice change of pace, but I'm mostly in it for the dress.” She twirled, smiling. “Look how picturesque I am!”

“Very picturesque,” Elliott agreed. “Saffron, I'm supposed to sound you out on the possibility of replacing Emily in the dance. She has some kind of gastrointestinal distress.”

“Or wicked cramps,” Leah mused, glancing over. “She usually partners with Shane, right? Ugh.”

“Can't they just drop a couple out of the set?” Saffron asked, puzzled.

“No, we need an even number of couples,” Elliot said.

“That's how they pressure the going-through-the-motions half into performing,” Leah said. “Four couples makes it look pathetic and five won't work. But can you even tolerate that guy? I'm amazed

Emily puts up with him, but he probably has to be nice to her in order to keep getting served beer.”

Saffron glanced over at Lewis, looking anxious enough to burst. Probably three-quarters of his identity was wrapped up in keeping up Pelican Town's appearances. “What the hell, it's just a dance. We don't even have to really talk.”

Elliott's eyebrows raised in surprise but not disapproval.

“Oh, I knew you were a nice person,” Leah said, teasing but not sarcastic.

“Probably just a sucker,” Saffron muttered, as she went over to inform Lewis.

Maru and Abigail were dispatched to help her with the dress in a half-collapsed changing tent. These dresses spent most of the time packed up in Lewis's attic, sachets of lavender between the folds, and they were designed to fit as many body types as possible.

It was a baggy shift dress tricked into fitting with a drawstring around the neckline and a white sash at the waist. The flutter sleeves and the hem both had flounces and a shitload of lace.

“I'm not sure this works with my man-shoulders,” Saffron said, trying her best to get a look in a small hand mirror.

Abigail shifted up a sleeve to assess her delts and biceps. “Wow, you're pretty ripped, but I guess that shouldn't be a surprise with you being a farmer.”

“Maybe it's my butch haircut that makes it look wrong.”

“It doesn't do to outshine the Flower Queen,” Maru said, “but Emily suggested this headband for me one year. I didn't like it, but if it makes you feel better...”

It had lace, too, but what the hell.

“I'm kinda surprised Emily hasn't redone these festival dresses,” Saffron said.

“No budget,” Maru said.

“I think we could, if Lewis wasn't so neurotic,” Abigail said. “I think it would look better with some contrast, like purple trim or something. Lewis looked like I wanted to stab his mother.”

“You look great!” Leah said, outside the tent. Elliott and Shane were there, holding the cards with the dance pattern traced out. “Give us a twirl!”

What the hell. Saffron took a handful of skirt and spun on the ball of one foot.

“That looked really good,” Abigail said, surprised.

Saffron shrugged. “I took some ballroom dancing in college.”

“Really?” Elliott said, surprised again.

“They needed another person to meet the class size quota. But this isn't ballroom dancing.” She held out her hand for the dance pattern card.

“Well, the footwork isn't actually important,” Elliott said. “It's the patterning.”

“You mean the thing that I didn't practice for an entire semester?” She glanced at Shane, “I hate to say it, but you might be the one responsible for getting us out of this in one piece.”
He didn't look pleased about that. He'd actually shaved for the festival, instead of his perma-scruff, and he looked horribly uncomfortable in the blue suit that also spent most of the year in Lewis's attic.
And so Lewis herded them into the lines for the dance.

“I'm surprised you guys don't have gloves for this. It makes the hand-holding less awkward,” she murmured. “I only have work gloves, though.”

Shane let out a snort. “We'd match, wouldn't we?”

Shit, I'd be tempted, but I think Lewis would have an aneurysm.”

That actually got Shane to grin, briefly. It was rare she'd seen much of any expression on his face, let alone a pleasant one.

And then Lewis insisted on getting photos. Girls together, men together, ensemble, and for some godforsaken reason, each couple individually, not just the Flower Queen and escort. She didn't remember this much effort in the previous years, but she'd left long before this point in the previous years.

Chapter Text

Aaaaand of course that Friday at the saloon, there was some teasing about her and Shane. She found it difficult to give a shit, but she accepted some photos that Emily passed her, copies of the ones taken at the dance.

She gave Robin a heads-up that she was gonna show up tomorrow morning to order the guesthouse built.

“I thought they left?” Leah asked.

“She did. He's still here.”

“They aren't a couple?”

“Not really, no.”

Elliott leaned over. “Is Shane stealing his glory, then? Should I inform the grapevine of the correct pairing?”

She refused to be baited by that and just gave him some side eye. “No.”

“So where was she headed next?” Leah asked.

Saffron mulled over how to answer that. “I don't know if she's the type who plans much of anything.” Vague enough, certainly, and probably even true.

“Oh, this is entirely selfish,” Leah added, “but have you ever considered keeping goats? I have a few recipes that call for goat cheese, but I'd have to go to the city to find anything decent. And you've been spoiling me with your farm-freshness.”

“Maybe. I've been thinking about expanding the barn anyway. You hear horror stories about goats. They're escape artists, and they'll trash the hell out of your crops given half a chance.”

Elliott sighed. “You certainly dispel all the romance of farming. But I suspect that you do have an ounce of passion hidden somewhere deep in your soul.”

Saffron chuckled. “Farming is only romantic from a comfortable distance away.”

“Very, very deep.” He lifted his wineglass as if making a salute. “I shall endeavor to find it someday. What stirs the heart of our hermit homesteader? What cravings quiver your mysterious soul?”

“Ooh, I like that, a mysterious soul.”

“Very cool,” Leah agreed.

She excused herself soon afterward to take her mysterious soul to bed. Or at least that was her plan, until she saw a light by the lake in the Cindersap Forest.

Shane was having a second round on the dilapidated dock. But instead of giving her his usual fuck-off vibes, he waved her over with the beer bottle in his hand. “Hey, up late, huh?” He held out the bottle. “Here, have a cold one.”

To be honest, it smelled like low-tier trash piss, but it felt like shitting on his unexpected hospitality to refuse it.

“I hate that we hold hands for a dumb country dance and all these nosy shits have nothing better to do than plan a wedding for us. I'm sorry you have to get lumped with me like that.”

“It's whatever. If it weren't us, it'd be something else.”

There was a long silence. She wasn't sure if it was supposed to be an uncomfortable one. Silences in of themselves didn't bother her, but she didn't know how Shane felt about them.

The light from the lamp flickered like the fireflies as the bugs crawled across the glass.

“Buh... Life,” he suddenly said. “You ever feel like...no matter what you do, you're gonna fail? …Like you're stuck in some miserable abyss and you're so deep you can't even see the light of day?”

She wanted to commiserate, but if she said anything, it would probably be stupid. She didn't want to ruin this delicate moment of camaraderie.

“I just feel like no matter how hard I try...I'm not strong enough to climb out of that hole.”

Her inner pressure to say something reassuring swelled up, but she plugged her dumb piehole with the bottle of that beer and tried to drink it while tasting it as little as possible.

“Heh...fast drinker, huh? Woman after my own heart. Just don't make it a habit...you got a future ahead of you still.”

There was a brief flicker of movement in the corner of her eye, but just as soon as she noticed it, Shane got up. “Welp, my liver's beggin' me to stop. Better call it a night. See you around, Saffron.”

As soon as he was safely away, Saffron reached for the crystal dagger in her pack, but stopped when she made out Brome's form coming from the shrubbery. But not just Brome, someone else. It took her a second to recognize Wizard.

“He's gone, then?” Wizard asked. “I was hoping to avoid mundane people.”

“Why?” she asked, puzzled. “You don't avoid me.”

“You're different. Even before--” he gestured at Brome, who folded his arms “--you saw the Junimos. Well, good night. I can see myself home from here.”

They parted ways, and once she thought Wizard was out of earshot, she asked, “I didn't expect to see you out this late. With him.”

There was a question in the last statement, but Brome avoided it. “It seemed the best way to be sure that he did leave.” His arms were still crossed. “But you have seen Junimos? I didn't know they were still in this world.”

“They live in the old Community Center. I bring them stuff, and in return they fix things, like the greenhouse or the bridge to the quarry. What are they, anyway? They're not slimes.”

“No, certainly not. I'm not sure that I can explain well. They're...spirits of the forest. They are not entirely of this world, nor of mine, either.”

“So what did he want?” she asked, meaning Wizard.

He looked away.

“Did he come to see me?”

“No. It was about my kind's magic.”

She frowned. What would be the right way to phrase her questions without being nosy? But there didn't seem to be a good way to avoid seeming nosy, and it probably wasn't her business. The moment was lost anyway.

Chapter Text

Robin built the cabin quickly, given that it didn't have a kitchen and barely had a bathroom.

“You can upgrade this, too,” she said, waving the photocopies of her catalog Saffron thought were made specifically to tempt her into buying more shit.

“It'll take me some time to get enough wood for the barn upgrade,” Saffron said, feeling like she needed to head off her expectations.

“What about the slime hutch? Have you given anymore thought to that? You seem to have the raw materials for that.”

“I'm not entirely convinced that breeding wild, dangerous animals is worth it,” Saffron said dryly.

Brome looked up from watering the newly planted summer crops. “Then why not domesticate them? When she gave him a look as though he had proposed eating dirt, he added defensively, “Dogs are domesticated wolves, yes? Wolves are dangerous.”

“Wouldn't that be a huge accomplishment?” Robin interposed brightly. “Demetrius would give his left arm to study the process.”

Saffron turned an even more incredulous look on her. “Slimes could get that done.”

“Only if he stuck his arm right in one,” Robin retorted. “Given his other projects, he might only have the time to compile and analyze any data you collect. Maru's got her job at the clinic, but she might be interested, too. Come to dinner sometime and ask.”

Saffron evidently still looked rattled even after Robin left (after placing her photocopies prominently on the kitchen table).

“I don't understand your worriment,” Brome said. “Your people have domesticated many dangerous creatures. Even as they are now, your cows could be dangerous, if they were to be provoked.”

“It took at least a couple hundred years to domesticate cattle, if not a thousand. And some animals can't be domesticated.”

He was startled at this information.

She continued, “I don't think deer can be domesticated. Some can be tamed, but I don't think they can be domesticated.”

“Is that not the same thing, taming and domesticating?”

“Not quite. In technical terms, individuals can be tamed, but it takes a population to be domesticated.”

He mulled over this information.

“Most domesticated animals are the social type, who live in groups. Are slimes even social animals?”

“It's not uncommon for slimes to live together. And giant slimes,” he realized abruptly, “are a collection of many slimes.”

“Giant slimes do exist?” she asked, kinda horrified. “Ugh.”

Even though he slept in the new cabin, he still spent a lot of time with Saffron in the main house, for meals, or chores that could be done indoors, or just because they were used to sitting together in the evenings without necessarily talking to each other, working on handicrafts, maybe with the TV on but usually not (Brome was pretty indifferent to that as well as the internet). Once she'd taken out the mini-harp she'd neglected since winter.

They only went to the mines once since Lucis left. Saffron thought she'd earned a nice, long break from dealing with that shit, but she had needed more ore. Though maybe she did miss Lucis when she was knee-deep in slimes, though it was still hella easier with Brome as backup. She finally got the right loot in the mines for one of the Junimos' tribute bundles. Brome came with her to the Community Center and saw for himself the bouncy little shits and their chirpy little voices.

They swarmed the both of them, but lingered longer compared to the other times she remembered. They blammed her with their telepathy to thank her, as usual, but they chirped a lot more as they circled around Brome.

“Are they actually saying anything to you?” she asked.

“...Not words. I don't think I can explain it.”

And so the Junimos remained as weird little fuckers she didn't really understand.

Last year Saffron had discover a top-tier method to dissipate the looming cloud of Lewis's anxiety about the luau soup: fancy-ass mushrooms. She'd tried putting in some good but common mushrooms into the soup the first year, because mushrooms went with a lot of things, and the asshole and his asshole guest of honor had the gall to complain about a fucking potluck sourced entirely from their goodwill being only “an average soup.” She almost sympathized with Sam's anchovy gambit.

Last year was a good-quality chanterelle that had happened in her mushroom cave. This year she'd managed to get this weird-ass purple mushroom that seemed like it ought to be poisonous but was amazingly delicious.

“I'll be off to the beach for today's festival,” she told Brome after the milking. He nodded and returned to watering.

The purple mushroom must have been a good choice, because the Governor was delighted.

But as the sun started to set, the Gang of Three suggested an after-party bonfire. It was a pretty easy sell for the younger set, and Leah and Abigail convinced everyone to pony up into a kitty to give to Saffron to reimburse her to bring her artisan booze and snacks. Sam volunteered to go with her back to the farm to fetch them, and to her surprise, Brome insisted on coming with them. Not that she was sad about it, but this was probably the first time he said more than three words to one of the townies. Alex was bringing Dusty to the beach now that the festival proper was over, so Saffron snapped a leash on Tamerlane to give him the treat of a run around the beach.

And she was even more surprised when Brome decided to stay at the beach. Dusty and Tam were chasing each other, but Dusty was pretty old and would be done soon.

Vincent and Jas were still there, desperately trying to convince their adults to let them stay. The adults hardened when they saw Saffron and her deputies hauling crates of beer and wine.

“I've got plain juice, too,” Saffron said, almost defensive.

Shane visibly on the verge of caving in to Jas, but Marnie and Jodi were much less ready. Penny stepped up. “I can watch them like usual,” she said softly. Maru looked pleased.

“I don't want them to stay up too late,” Jodi objected. “Kids need their sleep.”

“They'll probably conk out soon enough after dark,” Saffron interposed. “We can carry them home or just stash them in Elliott's cabin until morning.”

Elliott didn't look thrilled, but Leah elbowed him in the side. “I don't mind,” he supplied, even managing to give a cheerful smile.

“I AM gonna stay up all night,” Vincent insisted.

“I can do it, too,” Jas added.

Saffron glanced over to make sure their adults were out of earshot. “But it convinced them to let you stay.”

They couldn't argue with that. They ran off to play with the dogs – or at least play with Tam, because Dusty had laid down to pant.

Abigail brought some marshmallows, which was good because most of what Saffron had to offer was appallingly healthy, with some fruit but quite a bit of bread and stuff to put on it. The people who stayed included, of course, the Gang of Three, but also Maru, Penny, Leah, and Elliott.

“What is this?” Maru asked.

“'Seafoam pudding,' apparently,” she replied. She took a slice of bread and spread some of the mystery goop on it. “I like it like this.”

To her credit, Maru did try it. “Okay, it's not as bad as I was afraid.”

The pepper poppers being lukewarm at best didn't seem to deter Shane from cleaning the plate. The kids conked out on beach towels at about one in the morning. Penny, one of the few adults who wasn't buzzed, covered them with more towels and kept an eye on them.

“But isn't raising slimes just fucking crazy?” Saffron said. She clapped a hand over her mouth and looked towards the sleeping kids. Who she was really looking at was Penny, but she didn't seem appalled. Okay, maybe she herself was a little buzzed, too.

“Well, yeah, but I'd still want to see it,” Maru said.

“Your ass would get stone dead in Jurassic Park.” Sam could barely hide a giggle.

“Probably.”

“But you go fight stuff in the mines!” Abigail said. “That's so badass!”

“It's a pain in the ass, really.” Saffron realized she was listing against Brome's shoulder, but he didn't seem to mind. He'd hardly said anything to anyone, just sitting and watching, but that was more normal than his voluntarily coming here anyway.

Elliott snorted. “Gods, I swear you're trying to make yourself sound boring. What are you trying to hide, woman?”

“Fuck you,” Saffron said, stabbing a finger at him, “I really am that goddamn boring.”

“No, you're not,” Leah insisted. “You are, like, scary competent and soooo.....futch. You are so goddamn futch, Saffron.”

Brome flinched so hard that Saffron actually noticed it, but she was too distracted to actually pay attention to it. “I don't know what that's supposed to mean.”

“Like, I keep expecting you to be stone butch gay, but, like, you're not.”

“...Okay.”

“Aren't you gay?” Sam asked, but Abigail elbowed him hard in the side.

“You don't ask people if they're gay like that.”

“It's not like there's anything wrong with being gay,” Sam protested.

“It's not that she's gay,” Elliott said, “It's that she's an earth sign.”

There were several renditions of what the fuck? around the fire.

“Your sign is the bull, right? She's an earth sign. Solid...competent...you said she was competent, too,” he looked to Leah for support.

“Nah, wait,” Saffron said. “The earth archetype is the Mother Nature thing. I'm not a mother. Mothers aren't even futch by, like, definition.”

Most of everyone just kinda gave her another WTF look. Sebastian even looked up from his cigarette from his seat at the edge of the firelight.

“Anyway, your symbolism sucks ass,” she concluded.

“My symbolism is perfectly fine. Yours is just...pedestrian.”

“I'll have you know I have a useless liberal arts degree, too. Magna cum laude, bitch,” she emphasized with another stabbed finger, then added dryly, “Not that it did me any good.”

“What? What did you do before you moved here?” Maru asked.

“Common data monkey at Joja Corp. Probably would still be there if it weren't for Grandpa's farm.” She sighed, added after a moment, “But earth signs are passive, too, I guess.”

Her suddenly pensive mood lasted even when everyone made motions to break up the party and go home. “Hey,” she nudged Shane's shoulder with her knee. “Wake up. We gotta get your sprogs home.”

He rubbed a hand over his face, but while Sam was sober enough to piggyback a half-roused Vincent, it ended up that Saffron hefted Jas while Brome took the empty boxes filled with empty cartons and bottles. Tam followed even without the leash, actually responsive to the heel command.

She, Brome, and Tam were taking the southern way into the farm by the forest, when she stumbled a bit and sideswiped the elbow of the arm Brome was using to carry a box.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Are you well, Spice?”

She waved it off and trudged on, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Saffron.”

It was like a cold hand took hold of her lumbar and pulled her up short. She jerked to look at him in a way she hadn't when they'd first met or even when he'd asked to stay.

He grew dismayed as he read her face, and he dropped his eyes and moved to continue to the farmhouse. She followed after a few moments.

He'd said her true name. That was why you shouldn't tell any of the Neighbors your true name.

She'd forgotten. She'd been goddamn stupid and careless. How many times had she said her human neighbors' names before now?

But he didn't say anything else, just quietly setting the boxes under the eaves of the main house for later and disappearing into his cabin.

Chapter Text

She woke up late, even though late to her was now nine o'clock in the morning. Brome even had breakfast ready for her.

“Thanks. Damn, I slept hard,” she said. “I guess that's what I get for staying up till Yoba-knows-when. I guess I should be grateful I don't have a hangover.”

“Do you remember last night?” he asked lightly.

She gnawed a bit of pancake. “...Mostly? I guess I don't remember the unimportant parts, like walking home. Ugh, I don't hurt but I feel like I'm moving underwater. Today I might need coffee. We've got some stashed somewhere, right?”

“There is a batch just come from the keg,” Brome said. “Stay seated there, I'll fetch it.”

When he did, she said, “Lord, I must look like absolute garbage if you're fussing over me like this. What chores are left?”

“Only the milking. I still don't understand how to do it.”

“Half your trouble is because the cows know you're nervous.”

She checked the bathroom mirror, and she did have giant bags under her eyes. She was slow about the milking, but it got done. She let the cows out loose to graze, and checked the poultry. Brome was thoroughly comfortable with collecting eggs, at least. Was that why he was so blasé about slimes? Because in in his giant form he outweighed them by a factor of ten, like he did with chickens? Or was it because he thought if she was okay with huge beasts like cows, that she should be okay with knee-high slimes?

By noon it felt like she had a reasonable degree of motility, so she went down to Marnie's to inquire about a goat. That seems a hundred times more reasonable than slimes.

But Marnie wasn't at her counter. She did hear her voice in a back part of the house and wandered over. Jas was lurking at the door, and she could make out Marnie's words this time.

“C'mon. Wake up, Shane!”

He was passed out on the floor with a halo of vomit and beer cans. He'd kept going after last night?

“Oh shit,” she said, forgetting Jas was just outside. “This is my fault, isn't it.”

“No, this isn't the first time,” Marnie said. “Can you do something?”

She picked him up under the armpits and dragged him over to prop him up against the sofa in the corner. It was tempting to just dump some cold water over him, but she lacked the motivation to do it.

His bedroom was right by the kitchen, so it was easy to get a bowl of water and a dish towel and try to clean the vomit out of his stubble and hair. The cold wet did wake him up slowly, and he lurched enough that he would've fallen over if she didn't block it with her arm.

“Shane!” Marnie shook his shoulder. This time he did seem to wake up a bit. “What's the matter with you? All you do is mope around your room and drink beer!”

He scowled, looking away.

“What are you doing? Don't you think about the future? What's your plan?”

This seemed like an old argument, because he snapped, “Hopefully I won't be around long enough to need a 'plan!'”

There was a choking sound from the doorway. They saw the stricken look on Jas's face, and she darted off. Marnie went after her.

Saffron looked down at Shane's suffering expression. “You're a goddamn stupid bitch,” she informed him. She took out her feelings by plopping the wet dish towel over his head entirely and scrubbing hard.

“Fuck! Stop it!” He pushed her off.

His worn Joja jacket had puke up the arm. She knelt over him and unzipped it, took hold of one sleeve cuff and jerked it until he voluntarily pulled his arm out. She made as if to do the same on the other side, and he pushed her hand away again and grudgingly took it off.

She went back to the kitchen, rinsed off the sleeve in the sink, and collected some more towels and some actual cleaning fluid in a spray bottle. She mopped up the puke, threw away the cans, corralled all the dirty laundry into the hamper, and cracked the window to vent the bachelor funk for good measure.

All the time she was doing this, Shane just sat and watched her.

“Well?” she asked. “Are you going to say sorry? Or are you going to take a shower, change clothes, then say sorry?”

“Sorry,” he echoed dully.

“Not to me, dumbass. Go tell Jas you're sorry you said stupid shit, but maybe without the 'shit.' Lie to her face if you have to.” She mimed a kick to his ass.

She got the feeling he might have chickened out if she hadn't rode his ass all the way to her bedroom. But she didn't feel like she should invade in a family moment, so she stayed outside.

Marnie came out. “I'm sorry I got you involved in family trouble.” She sighed. “I don't know what to do.”

“It's above your pay grade,” Saffron said. “He's an adult.”

She sighed again. “You've got vomit on your shirt. You can borrow one of mine.” She gestured at her own bedroom. “Pick out anything you want that's clean. I should get Jas a glass of water. I should get them both some water. Hell, do you want some water?”

“Sure.”

And though she didn't mean to snoop, she caught a glimpse of purple on the other side of the dresser, in the corner. Those were fucking men's boxers. What the fuck? She had a vague memory of Lewis sending her a note to keep an eye out for his lucky shorts. She quietly stuffed them into her backpack with her dirty shirt. How long ago was that?

Marnie did give her the information on goats, but it was hard to overcome the emotional inertia in the air.

And because she was in the area, she visited Leah's cabin. “You get home okay last night?”

“I actually stayed over at Elliott's.” She seemed to be waiting for Saffron to give her shit over it, so she obliged.

“Am I supposed to be all 'oooh, sleepover, spill the deets'?”

“You don't have to. Nothing happened.”

“Okay.” Saffron glanced over at the laptop on the table. “How's business?”

“Not bad, but I feel like I can't interact with my customers. Have a dialog, you know. Maybe I should have done an art show instead.”

“There's no reason you can't do both. You said something once about having the valley being an actual art destination. Lewis would like it. He'd probably even help. You know lots of artsy people, right?”

“Would you wanna contribute anything? You're obviously good with your hands, you should take a stab at something artistic next.”

“Maybe.” Did those stat-boosting rings count as art?

Chapter Text

“Oh, fuck it,” Saffron said, tired, and plonked her bar of iridium on the countertop. “Just build me a slime hutch and shut up forever.”

Maru hid a smile but got distracted by the shiny. “Do you have any more of those?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I think it's a good thing that you're trying to harvest wood sustainably,” Robin added.

And she told Marlon when she brought him bat wings to sell direct.

“Well, I have something for you, then,” he said, and disappeared into the bunkroom for a moment.

He came back with a jar with jelly-looking thing in it. “This is a slime egg.”

She shook it a bit, noticing the thick layer surrounding the jelly interior. It was much more viscous than slime normally was, but still fairly flexible.

“You'll need an incubator to hatch it. I have blueprints somewhere.” He dipped back into the bunkroom. “Oh, and this one for a slime press. You take a lot of slime residue and it turns it into a slime egg.”

“What? How does that even make sense?”

“Well, they're not normal animals.”

She had to admit that. “Wait, do they live-birth or lay eggs? I saw a slime give birth in the mines once.”

“Both. Depends on availability of food, overcrowding, stuff like that. And it's good you have that thing.” He nodded at her slime charmer ring. “It's hard to find 'em.”

Fortunately he didn't ask where she found it. She had made sure that she never brought Lucis or Brome here.

And within a week she had a bouncing baby green slime in her hutch. It already seemed less aggressive than wild slimes, but she didn't know if that meant much. It could turn aggressive once it hit the puberty, like raccoons apparently did. Did slimes have a puberty? She jotted that thought down in the separate notebook she bought for slime-specific purposes.

It was shy about being touched, but it did let her touch it without trying to ooze acid onto her. She could still feel wild slimes trying to do acid or poison to her even if her ring nullified the attack.

After selling a bunch of high-quality melons, she was finally able to finish the tribute bundles for the Junimos in the Community Center. Could broken buses be magicked like broken greenhouses and bridges? Welp, they'd been magicking up the different sections of the center, even with its electrical fixtures and modern plumbing.

“They're not repairing them, exactly,” Brome said. “It is something more like altering their age. Maybe restoring their time? They had already done it, to speed the rotting of the floor so they had the access to the earth they wanted.”

Fucken time wizard eco-blobs?

It was only after they were escorted to the door with chirps and brushing caresses on their ankles that Saffron wondered if she'd get the chance to see the little shits again. It was only a couple seconds after she closed the door behind them that she flung it open again, but they were gone.

She said as much to Brome, but he didn't seem worried. “I don't think you're rid of them so easily. It's odd they stayed here, and it's odd they showed themselves to you.”

“I still don't know why. That Wizard said the same thing about my being 'odd,' but I still don't know what that's supposed to mean.”

“It cannot be a bad thing.”

“Oh, I dunno about that.”

He was still scrupulous about hiding his laughter at her, despite her provocations.

Saffron wasn't entirely sure how Lewis explained the Community Center being fixed up, but most of the stray rumors were about how Pierre had punched the Joja Mart manager, Morris, or about how Pam had something to do besides drink now that the bus was fixed. Just as well.

It was halfway through fall when Leah got her art show. Haley had loaned a velvet-lined tray that Saffron could set up her measly display of amateur jewelry, tangential to Emily's custom tailoring booth with its rack of samples. Emily seemed much better prepared, with Sandy putting finishing touches on a calligraphy sign that looked stupid good for being done in sharpies.

Haley had also put quite a bit of effort into her setup, with organized racks of prints at various sizes and price points mingled among the huge framed display prints. She also looked gallery quality, wearing a fascinator on her crisp blonde curls and high-gloss lacquered nails that Saffron actually really liked the purple color of. Saffron surreptitiously examined her own nails to make sure she at least didn't have any stray dirt underneath. Except she did.

She felt more like a filthy casual because most of Leah's artsy friends had clearly done this kind of thing before. She a few pottery friends, who did both art pieces and more practical stuff, a pair of painter friends, and an actual silversmith who made Saffron want to quietly shove her stuff into the trash bin.

Only a few pieces were rings. Most were pendants, but quite a few were just her giving up trying to have a coherent theme and just carved odds and ends probably only suitable for paperweights.

Leah took the spotlight by introducing her pieces with a torrent of superb artso-babble.

Elliott leaned over, “I didn't want to tell her how much I hate that eggheaded piece, but she's managed to sell me on it. A little.”

“I guess good art is supposed to make you a little uncomfortable? I'm totes uncomfortable,” she murmured back.

Her artsy bros also introduced a few of their more highbrow pieces. Haley threw around more technical terms than Saffron really expected of her, but that was probably a hugely douchey thought. Emily talked about her love of clothing as wearable art and its capacity to express the soul of the wearer, and then it was her turn on the spot.

She introduced herself, then said, “I just kinda farted around and made some stuff.”

Leah didn't set her get away with it, though. “And? Tell us about your creative process. You harvest all your materials yourself, right?”

At least that was something to impress her artsy friends with.

“Scratched them out of the dirt myself. Started with the rings, since I had patterns for those. Nothing terribly fancy, just...whatsit, cabochon gemstones in the rings, and then, frankly that got boring, but gemstones are hella hard to cut without some expensive gear, so I tried carving pendants instead out of the softer stuff like marble or jade or the frozen tears. I tried some in wood, but it turns out that it's pretty hard with the janky stuff from the woodpile without a good grain on it. This green one is made from petrified slime that my farmed slime dropped on me. He's a good little dude.”

He was, actually. She was ending up treating him something like Tam and praising him for dropping good loot, and he seemed to respond to her tone of voice when she talked gushy bullshit at him.

“Do you have a theme for your collection?” Leah prodded again.

“Ha, as if. Just stuff that I thought would look cool. Or the geometric stuff I hoped would be easier. Spoilers, it wasn't, not with the math involved.”

The artsy friends all nodded, chuckled, or grimaced knowingly.

It went better than she expected. She actually sold a couple pieces.

And then something about Leah's body language tipped her off.

“You're satisfied now, aren't you?” some asshole chick was saying. “Come back to the city. I just want things to go back to the way they were.”

“Kel, I've built something here,” Leah was saying.

“I've been waiting for you,” Kel said. “I've been buying your stuff online all along.”

“W-what? You never appreciated my art.”

“Is that what you think of me? Are you so self-centered that you can't see how hard I'm trying even now? I waited so long for you, Leah.”

She made as if to grab her arm, but Saffron deliberately shouldered into her space while Leah reflexively stepped out.

“Bruh, learn how to take 'no' as an answer.”

“Who are you? This has nothing to do with you.”

“You've communicated what you came here to say, right? Obviously she doesn't wanna, and I doubt any more nagging is gonna change her mind.”

“Is this why you won't take my calls, Leah? Is this how you replace me? I waited for you, and you just rolled onto the next thing coming?”

Saffron took another step more squarely between them. “Bitch, what are you talking about? She lived here at least a year before I came around, and it's been three years since then. How many has it been for you since Leah, huh? Did they all get tired of your bullshit and now you're trying to lure her back because there's no one else?”

Kel turned red and tried to shove her aside, but Saffron shrugged it off. Kel clenched a fist and threw it recklessly at Saffron's chest.

She pushed it through its momentum and grabbed her arm when she was off-balance. “Are you serious? Are you kidding me?” She felt her blood starting to boil. “Some unmuscled noodle like you wants to throw down? Don't tempt me to take you seriously.”

But a split second later she felt herself pulled from behind. She jerked away, but Brome was already stepping past her to get between them, and Kent was taking a turn at physically holding her back.

“Get you gone.” He never spoke this loudly in public, and for some reason he was leaning on his accent hard. “Kel, is it? There is nothing for you here. Leave this place, Kel.”

Saffron had recalled her good sense well enough to relax in Kent's grip, but he didn't seem quite convinced of it.

“I kinda want to thank you, but I kinda don't,” Leah said when Kent finally released her.

“No, I don't blame you,” Saffron said. “Honestly, most of that more about my asshole ex than yours.”

Brome turned on her. “Did she hurt you?”

“Pah, hardly.”

“You're breathing harder than you ought.”

“It's the adrenaline. God, you'd think it'd been enough years since then.”

“Since what?” Leah asked.

“My shitty ex. Though the next one wasn't exactly stellar, either.”

“Wanna get drunk and talk about it sometime? I dunno if tonight's good. I wanna at least buy all the guys a drink at the saloon for coming down.”

She clamped it down to put on a good face. “Don't worry about it. It's been awhile since you've seen them, right?”

Leah was willing to let it pass, but Brome seemed less convinced.

Emily seemed inspired about something, judging by the letter in the mailbox the next morning. Clothing therapy?

“You're probably wondering...what is clothing therapy?” Emily said.

At least she was aware about it. Half-credit for that?

“So many of us are struggling with personal issues...things holding us back from living how we want. It's important to me that everyone has a free and happy life...so I came up with a new therapy to help people achieve that. It's based on the amazing power of self-expression. Self-expression is a wonderful healing tool, did you know that?”

“Did you just round up the angstiest people you could find?” Saffron asked from the back. “Is that why we're here?” Though that didn't explain Robin being here.

“No, it's that you're the ones who had an open enough of a mind,” Emily said serenely, “or weren't already busy. I'm sure Leah's still wiped out from all the work she did yesterday with the art show. Anyway...”

She continued. “Behind this curtain, you'll find racks and racks of clothes. There's endless options to choose from. Your job is simple: find the outfit that truly speaks to you and put it on. Feel confident in yourself and your choice. You all have a unique style to share with the world! Shane, you're up first!”

Saffron was a little impressed by the cheerful ruthlessness with which she pinned him down.

To everyone's surprised, Shane came out tricked out in full goth gear, down to the black lipstick. Saffron had to literally bite her lip to suppress the urge to tease him, but of all things, he seemed like he was having fun with it. Maybe there was something to this clothing therapy.

But when it was her turn behind the curtain, she just kinda stared at the racks.

“Just choose something that speaks to you!” Emily reminded her.

“I dunno what that means. Everyone's choosing stuff that contrasts pretty heavily with their everyday look, but is that the same thing as it speaking to you? Would I be copying Robin if I just wore something flowy and feminine? I did wear the dress for the Flower Dance already.”

“It is about breaking out of your shell, but you're overthinking it. You don't have to make up your mind all at once. Try on a bunch of different things if you feel like it.”

There was a sudden slam at the door. Saffron poked her head out.

“I couldn't do it!” Clint ripped the beret off his head. “I don't wanna break out of my shell!”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“I feel you there,” Saffron offered.

“Do you want to try something else?” Emily asked. “Something that's only a little bit of a change instead of a lot?” She did seem disappointed though.

Clint was struggling to make words.

“That's okay, Clint. You can change back if you want,” she finally told him. “I appreciate that you did try.”

Clint looked like he'd swallowed his own hammer.

So Saffron continued to fart around among the racks.

“I think the moral of this story is just that I want to dress like an MMORPG character. What horrible things does that say about my psyche?”

“Why does it have to be horrible?” Emily asked.

“Doesn't that just mean I want to escape reality?”

“It looks like you're just having fun to me. Why is having fun supposed to be an escape from reality? Why does reality have to be boring and horrible?”

“Or do we tell ourselves it is to insulate us from disappointment when it turns out to be?”

“Is that what you do? What are you disappointed in? How small Pelican Town is?”

“No no, I...well, maybe there's some ingrained snobbery in there somewhere. But I'm most disappointed in myself – or I think I should be disappointed in myself. Were you there that night on the beach after the luau?”

“No, Gus needed my help in cleaning up.”

“I boasted a bit about graduating magna cum laude, but the only thing I ended up doing with it was being a data monkey for Joja Corp. I don't like even walking into the store we have here – did have here, small mercies. I feel like I would have just wasted my life more if I didn't run away to Grandpa's farm – and I did have the good luck to have somewhere to run away to. I hadn't even dated anyone since college.”

“Do you feel guilty about that? Farming instead of being a white-collar something?” Emily looked like she would have a hard time sympathizing with a wish to be white-collar anything, but she was still trying.

“Not really the farming. That's at least respectable. It's the running away, I think.”

“You feel guilty?”

“Yeah. These days I'm torn between feeling guilty – or at least feeling like I should feel guilty – and not having the energy to give a shit anymore. I know how to dress like I don't give a shit anymore, but how do I dress like I don't give a shit anymore, yanno?”

“Like an MMORPG character, I guess,” Emily said, smiling.

Chapter Text

After breakfast, Brome suddenly looked over his shoulder at the front door. “Lucis is here.”

“Aww, shit,” Saffron said before she could edit herself, putting up the dishes he'd dried. “At least it's winter, not so much farmwork on top of keeping up with--”

The door exploded open, and before Saffron had a chance to turn around, there was another huge crash as Brome was thrown bodily into the living room furniture, breaking one side of the couch and smashing the coffee table. Tam shrieked and darted from his napping spot by the fireplace and parkoured over the couch to hide in the bedroom.

“You filth!” Lucis kicked the couch aside like it was an empty tin can and picked Brome up by the front of his shirt to deck him solidly in the face. “Bind him,” she told someone behind her in the doorway.

“--fuck?” Saffron squeaked out. If she'd had anything in her hands to drop, it'd be one more mess to clean up.

Lucis held her still with hands on her shoulders and stared at her with unexpected pity and sorrow instead of rage.

“He's done this to you?”

Saffron couldn't even get a stupid question out, just gaped at her.

“Of course you can't remember. Be still a moment.” Lucis closed her eyes and pressed a hand on her collar bone.

And she did remember. She'd gone to Wizard to deliver something he'd written her about quite a while ago, but he was missing. Even the green fire beneath his cauldron had been cold ashes. Brome acted suspiciously when she returned from her errand and told him about it, and then he said her name with a tone that left cold fingers in her spinal fluid before she'd blacked out.

Lucis set her down on a kitchen chair before she made it all the way to the floor.

“Stellan? Good. You--” Lucis rounded on Brome, arms tied behind his back and bleeding from the mouth where she hit him. “You lie at her hearth and grow fat on her stores, and you dare turn your power against your mistress?”

The only thing her mind was capable of latching onto was how absurd it was to accuse that beanpole scarecrow of growing fat – less painfully skinny, maybe, but fat?

“I'll deal with you since she can't. Take him out, Stellan.” Lucis pulled the long dagger from her belt and made as if to follow, but Saffron latched onto her arm.

“W-what?”

“Traitorous churls like him ought to be put down,” Lucis said, trying to soothe her. “It was thoughtless of me, to not think that something like this could happen. I was happy to repay you for your hospitality.”

Saffron clutched at her.

“Does it hurt? If you giants are not used to magic... I ought to bring you to a healer. I will bring you to my aunt,” she said decisively. “Stellan ought to be adept enough to make you small.”

Tam whined from the bedroom doorway.

“Ah yes, your animals. Is there someone to take care of them for you? Have you gotten any more men?”

Saffron pulled herself together to walk over and reassure Tam. “I can maybe ask Marnie...”

“Good. I'll take you to her before we leave for the forest.”

She was still good at faking being functional and put-together, she found. It was easiest to shove everything but the most immediate necessities down the memory hole. Lucis and the others stayed out of sight while she went to into Marnie's.

“Sure,” Marnie said.

“The milking's stopped for the winter, the laying's lot reduced,” Saffron rambled. “And Tam. And water the slimes. They'll just avoid you.”

“No problem. I can send Shane over, too,” Marnie said. “Is it family trouble? Are you okay?”

“Not exactly. It's just...” the lie seemed to come straight from heaven, “Brome's got trouble with his visa. Who knows how many days this is gonna take, to get all the paperwork straightened out.”

“Oh,” Marnie nodded sympathetically.

“And the hotel expense, too,” Saffron added with a last gasp of inspiration. Fortunately, Marnie didn't require any more feats of mental acuity to be convinced.

There was a portal to the elfin realm, she found out. It was basically a dim glowing outlined that snaked around the branched of two bushes, hidden in the shadows. Lucis held the rope halter around Brome's neck while Stellan first had the elves resume their normal size, and with much more effort, shrank Saffron.

The forest seemed a lot more menacing, even if they'd already killed off the slimes here.

She was still tall enough that she whacked her head against branches that the elves passed under easily, maybe eighteen inches to their sixteen inches or Brome's almost seventeen. Lucis was dissatisfied with that, but she was more concerned with getting her to a healer.

It was maybe three hours of hiking, thankfully rough enough going that Saffron didn't have the bandwidth to think about why she was stumbling after them and Brome was hauled forward like livestock.

The aunt's house was more like a small village in its own right at the edge of the forest, with an attendant flock of thatched barns and outbuildings and a herd of fucken guinea pigs as big as dogs. Except they were probably normal guinea pigs, just that on elves they came to be around knee high. That solved the half-remembered mystery of what the fuck cuy were.

Brome was hauled away, while Lucis linked Saffron's arm in hers to half escort, half haul her faster to the manor house in the center of the bustle.

“Caltha, where is my cousin Lath?” Lucis asked a husky, gray-haired woman just inside the threshold.

“I thought you were gone away, child. Who is this?”

“My guest of return hospitality, Mistress Spice.” Lucis seemed to take an almost proprietary pride in the introduction, still keeping her and Saffron's arms linked. “Send for my cousin to attend her in the guestroom. She has fallen foul of the worthless bachelor I left her.”

“Hold there, the bachelor you left? This is that--”

“The giant, yes.”

Caltha frowned. “Cala, attend this guest. You, come with me to your aunt and explain this.”

Lucis reluctantly let go of her arm, and Saffron slowly followed Cala and knocked her head against the headers of a few more doorways. At least she was too tired to think too much at this point. She barely looked up when another person entered the room, which fortunately saved her from rudeness when she was startled but speechless of all the swears she was tempted to say when that person turned a featureless face onto her.

It was a mask, she realized, a carved wooden mask with eye holes and a mouth hole and too much uncanny valley.

“I am sorry for startling you, Mistress. I am Lath, healer of this house.” He knelt on the floor in front of her stool. “I see that bruise forming on your forehead, but there is something magical amiss?” He reached to touch her forehead, but jerked his hand back abruptly. “Spirits above!” He turned to the door. “Talon, bring me willow and hawthorn, calendula, and the catnip. Cala, please bring clean snow for the bruise.”

He waited until the door was closed again, them alone, and asked gravely, “It was Brome?”

“Yeah.”

It was hard to read his expression under his mask, but he was upset to some degree or another.

“You know him?”

“I have worked with him. He's an adept wizard. How could he--? And to you, who granted him hearthroom?”

She looked away and shivered, and not because the room was still chilly with its barely kindled fire. “He killed Wizard – the human wizard who lived nearby. He wanted me to forget. He wanted me to forget he knew my true name, too.”

His gasp and subsequent muttering were muffled. Cala came again with a basin of snow and a cloth.

He treated the headache with the willow, and ground the hawthorn, calendula, and catnip together with a crystal mortar and pestle and had her drink it mixed with water. She couldn't tell that it helped, but at least it didn't taste all that bad.

Lath and Cala left her to rest on a bed with cuy-fur blankets, but she'd stared at the ceiling for maybe half an hour when Lucis came to cart her off to the salon of her other cousin, Mallau.

Mallau was the aunt's daughter and heir, dressed in embroidered clothes with a fur ruff that looked like an albino squirrel's tail, attended by a string of friends, servants, and fosterlings to her mother, whose names Saffron instantly forgot.

Mallau said little herself, but paid attention as the others bombarded her with questions about the giants and their country. But along with the questions, she was offered snacks and a tea cup constantly replenished by an attentive servant.

They'd all tried the cheese that Lucis had brought back last year, and thus were undecided about whether to be disgusted by the entire fact of dairy culture. From there it was an easy step to talk about cuisine and the sheer variety of human-domesticated species until dinner, when they were expected to attend on the aunt in the great hall.

It was something of a relief that Lath intervened in the hallway to the great hall. “Sister, our guest ought to be resting.”

“She seems better for having eaten a little. I thought dinner would do her more good.”

“Mistress, you still have the headache, do you not?”

“It's not bad.”

“Sister, dismiss her to bed. I will arrange for a tray in the guestroom.”

“As you will, Lath. Forgive us, Mistress Spice.”

Lath led her away, muttering something about Lucis under his mask.

She was surprised that he brought her dinner tray himself, but it seemed the reason was so he could linger and speak to her in private.

“Mistress Spice, I beg you to speak with Brome. He and his magic both are restrained, you have no reason to fear.”

She sighed. “I should talk to him anyway.”

Lath seemed relieved. “It can wait until the morning. I do not like the color of your complexion.”

“Lucis was...gonna kill him.”

His fists clenched. “That is not her place. Not even my mother will interfere – unless you request it,” he added conscientiously.

Chapter Text

She endured the stares at breakfast in the hall the next morning. It was the first time she'd seen the Mistress Aunt of the house, the most elfin looking elf she had yet seen, willowy slim and silver-haired and with long, narrow eyes and long, narrow teeth, who looked her over and seemed to lose interest almost immediately. It was mostly a relief.

Caltha, it seemed, was the steward of the manor, giving instructions and being consulted about every five steps, so Saffron wondered why such a busy personage was personally escorting her to Lath's workroom for a follow-up visit.

Lath unwrapped her head to examine the bruise, which had faded significantly, but she asked to keep the bandage on. She was on the short side of average for a human, and actually being a giant in context, rather than just bandying the word around, was an unwelcome novelty.

Lath seemed distracted, and he startled her when he went to lay hands on her scarf.

“I beg your pardon, mistress. Please forgive the familiarity; I need to touch your nodes.”

“What?”

“Like this.” With one hand he touched the hollow at the base of her skull and with the other touched the hollow of her throat.

“You didn't yesterday.”

“I did not need to yesterday.”

“Does this mean she is healing well?” Caltha asked.

There was something in her tone that made that feel like a loaded question.

“I have never treated a giant, but it should heal in a few more days.”

“With or without your intervention?”

Okay, definitely loaded.

“I could not say for certain, but it is promising. Are we not repaying a debt?”

“Lucis is indebted to her, but she has not been troublesome to the household nor the mistress.”

Shit.

But while Caltha was distracted by a petitioner outside, Lath leaned over and murmured, “I hope you have not forgotten your promise to see Brome, mistress.”

She didn't know what the fuck she was supposed to do about that, especially since Caltha brought her straight back to her room. But apparently he'd thought this out.

Maybe ten minutes later, a young boy knocked on her door. “Mistress? Master Lath sent me to get you.” His eyes widen as she stood at her full eighteen-inch height. “You truly are a giant?”

“In fact, I'm usually more giant than this.” This time she remembered to duck the header on her bedroom door, but she forgot at the door to the outside.

While Lath's workshop was in the manor proper, most of the work was taking place in the outbuildings, people carrying loads here and there, looking very village-picturesque, but no horses, no cattle, no dogs, no cats. There were some hunters carrying a half-plucked bird about the size of a turkey that was probably a sparrow instead. The trees outside the village registered more like looming fucking mountains, with dead reeds seeming more like bamboo.

They came to a thatched barn that emitted cuy chirps, and Lath met them at the door. What the fuck was with all this sneakery? The inside was pretty nice, though, if gloomy, with all the animal warmth.

“Let him down,” Lath said.

“We have our orders,” another man said.

“Very well, keep him tied, but let him down, for pity's sake.”

She saw Brome hanging by the wrists from a rope thrown over a barn beam and tied to the wall out of his reach. He could kneel, but he couldn't lay down, and his shoulder blades jutted out from his torn shirt. He just kinda fell over when they loosened the rope enough to do so.

Lath knelt over him and examined his injuries as well as he could in what light there was from the door. The cuy weren't interested in going out in the snow. The closer ones were more interesting in nosing her or chewing their cud with little wiggles of their ears.

Lath was using actual magic to heal the worst of the injuries. She watched out of curiosity, not just because of the magic, but because Lath was clearly closer to him than just as a coworker of sorts.

The boy and the unknown man stood outside the door, as if on watch, and Lath showed her a cord of braided leather and wire around Brome's neck. “See, mistress? He is bound from using magic. He cannot harm you, so please.” He tipped a cup of water down Brome's throat with a practiced move, but Brome turned away, hiding his face in his arms.

Lath looked up at her, “Please, mistress.”

“Just – dude, what the fuck? What the actual fuck?” Almost out of weariness, she sank down on the littered floor next to them. A cuy nosed her hair and she gently shooed it away.

“He...” Brome started, “he was threatening you.”

“Wizard? He's an old kook, but what the fuck did you have to kill him over?”

“He was going to tell me your true name.”

She started. That crank bitch who'd warned her so much about keeping it secret? Even Lath seemed shocked.

“He wanted my magic. He was after me for so long to give him more magic. He was going to trade me your name for more magic.”

That fucken bitch-ass fuck. She suddenly felt drastically less sorry for him.

“Wait, you already knew my name, you dumb shit. You'd made me forget about it before.” Hadn't it been after the luau? “Why'd you have to kill him?”

“He – he thought...”

Why'd this dipshit have to have such a pathos in his voice? It sounded like she was pulling a confession out of his small intestine, but musically and beautifully. Even the cracks from his dry throat sounded good.

“He thought I would use your name to take you to bed.”

It took a more moments for the force of that to land. He'd meant for her to get roofied with her own name? “That fucken bitch-ass fuck,” she repeated aloud.

He reached around to touch her knee. “Don't you know I would do anything for you?” He turned to put his forehead against her knee, still hiding his face from her.

That was way, way more personal than he'd ever been before, and her first reaction was to be alarmed. She shoved that down. Instead she stroked his dirty hair as if he were Tam nuzzling up for attention. He let out a broken sigh.

“I still wish you hadn't done it,” she said evenly.

Lath stirred. “Now you have it, mistress. What will you do?”

“What can I do? Someone will eventually report Wizard missing – there would be an investigation of some kind. You're probably better off staying here.”

It was like she'd just punched him, and that also alarmed her.

“Mistress,” said the man at the doorway, but it wasn't at her.

“Mistress Spice, if you would,” called a cold voice from outside. It was the Mistress Aunt, accompanied by a small party including Lucis and Mallau. She did not seem pleased.

“Madame,” Mallau said, “this affair may be mishandled, but she is very young.”

“Our guest, or our Lucis?” the Mistress Aunt shot back. Lucis flushed but said nothing, staring at her shoes. It seemed very unlike Lucis, but the Mistress Aunt was scary as fuck. “I do not wish such mishandling to interfere with our household. Lath,” she turned on him, “you are promised to the House of Longfall once the season is turned.”

“And I will hold to my duty, Madame,” he said. “This is something else.”

This felt like very dangerous ground to be standing on.

“I do hope so.” She skewered Saffron with another look. “And what are your intentions, Mistress Giant? Our people removed from your world because we could not be at peace with your kind. Do you mean to follow us here for our magic?”

“I'm only a farmer, Madame. I don't have much use for magic.”

“That bachelor is a mage, is he not?”

“I used him as farm labor, not a mage. I can leave him here, if that is better.”

Mistress Aunt made a short movement as if slapping the idea away. “I will not have trash like that at my hearth. You ought to have put that churl down yourself, but,” she added conscientiously, “you are very young. As it is our Lucis who is at the root of this mischief, I am willing to spare you.”

“Y-you can't just let him go?” She was trying not to get flustered, but it wasn't going very well.

“Only an irresponsible fool would think it was as simple as that. Make your choice.”

She took a few breaths. “I'll take him.”

“But you'll not kill him?” Mistress Aunt smiled thinly as she read aloud between the lines.

“I don't want him to die,” she said simply. “If it's a binary choice between taking him and leaving him to die, that makes it that much easier.”

Mistress Aunt seemed surprised, but smiled a feral, amused smile again. “You are a kind child. It makes you foolish.”

“Probably,” she agreed.

Mistress Aunt almost laughed. “I will grant you one more night as guest at my hearth. But only one. And Lath,” she added, turning steely, “do not speak to her again outside of your duties as healer.”

He bowed.

“Mistress,” he said, bowing to her in turn, “please accept this as my farewell. Reed, attend to our guest.”

Chapter Text

Tam growled as Saffron opened the door. “Oh, shit.” He'd never growled before, ever.

“That's some pretty crazy separation anxiety,” Shane offered.

Thankfully he'd taken the broken coffee table and couch as Tam's work, but Tam had also added shredding the couch upholstery and what looked like the mangled remains of Saffron's comforter to the mix.

Tam barked and growled again, louder.

“Aw, fuck.” And now her dog had developed issues on top of everything else. “Taaaamerlaaane,” she sing-songed out to him. His ears perked, and his lips dropped over his teeth, thank goodness. “He didn't give you any shit about taking care of the farm, did he?”

“Not really, but he didn't want me in the house at all. I stayed the hell out.”

“Good call.”

They went over the farm together, Brome trailing behind.

“You've got some really good chickens,” Shane said as they observed from the door. “Have you ever thought about breeding?”

“Nah, not really. I've hatched a few ducks, but that's it.”

“I guess you like ducks better.” Two chickens to four ducks kinda gave it away.

“You're a chicken person? Are we gonna have a cat-vs-dog-like thing going on?”

“Ducks are...okay, I guess.”

“But no issues with these guys?”

“No. Your cows are pretty pushy, though.”
“Hmm?”

“Marnie's cows will let me just go in, drop the hay, and leave. Yours crowd me.”

She smirked. “I think that's usually called being friendly, but they are pretty big. How were the slimes?”

“One of them bit me.”

“Was it the blue one?”

He nodded.

“I think I just need to put that one out of his misery. He's not promising.”

Sure enough, Blue was quivering aggressively in the corner, while Green sauntered over and nudged her foot. She crouched down and held out her hand. He offered her a little tentacle as if to handshake.

“Whoa,” Shane said from over the closed half-door. “I didn't know you could teach them to do that.”

This time, she tried closing her hand softly around the little “arm.” He let her do that for about three seconds, and she let him go when he pulled back. He didn't seem offended by the little experiment. She tried to approach Blue, but he spat some kind of freezing gel attack at her. He clearly hadn't retained any of the taming progress they'd had before she was gone. Green was still nudging around her ankles.

She went back to the door and handed Shane and Brome some winter root.

“Distract Green with some food for a second.”

While they did, she took out her crystal dagger and dispatched Blue, hopefully before Green noticed. But Shane definitely noticed and seemed a little freaked out.

“I'll at least use him to make some good fish bait,” she said, though on second thought that probably wasn't as reassuring as she hoped it would be.

“That's...hardcore. I know Marnie couldn't stand to kill any of her animals.”

“I can't keep him, and I can't set him loose to attack someone around here.”

Shane nodded reluctantly. “It makes sense, but damn. Remind me not to fuck around with you.”

After Shane left and the light was going at fucking five in the afternoon, they used the remains of the coffeetable as kindling for the fire that night. Brome had built a sort of nest out of the mangled couch remains – Tam was a fan – while he ceded her the lone surviving chair. She was surprised he didn't just go out to his cabin and sit in comfort there, but even if she didn't want company, she didn't exactly want to be alone, either. Half of what made her and Brome's relationship work – whatever the hell their relationship was – was that they were both okay with companionable silence.

And in a letter from Lewis, Penny was her Secret Santa recipient this year. She had no idea what Penny liked. She saw her at the library all the time with the kids, but who knew what kind of books she even liked? She was friends with Maru, for sure, and maybe Elliott? He spent quite a bit of time at the library. She jotted down a note in her journal.

She wasn't sure at what point she fell asleep, but she we woke up in the couch-nest wrapped around Brome like a starfish trying to prise open a mollusk.

She wiped the drool off her chin and carefully extracted herself without waking him up -- though she woke up Tam, who was nestled against her butt -- and went to sort through and/or repress her feelings over coffee while Tam flopped down and put his head on her feet.

Even her panic wasn't enough to completely overflow the deep-seated sense of ease and groundedness she hadn't felt in long, long time. Oh my fuck, I'm touch-starved and my amygdala is a stupid, stupid bitch. This is how she'd gotten into trouble with that med student in college.

Welp, that answered one question. Despite whatever expectations whatever rando had, shitbeard wizards included, she was not gonna sleep with Brome, not if it made her have to deal with feelings and the extra feelings about the moral ethics of sleeping with the guy she had power over because she controlled his housing situation. Nope nope nope, that can of worms was staying the fuck closed.

And all the while, she had the urge to rub her body against his solid warmth and nibble his jawline and – fuck fuck fuck you stupid goddamned horny dumb bitch.

The best solution she could come up with was to masturbate in a lava-hot bath, but it leveled her out enough to be able to ignore the fuck out of what just happened, even during the first few minutes of Brome's walking on eggshells.

So she got the hell outta the house and went to the clinic. Maru wasn't there, but Harvey was.

“No, today's not one of her days,” Harvey was saying.

She bought a couple energy tonics, and then her fucking stupid shit-for-brains looped back to her latest crisis and began evaluating Dr Harvey as a boy toy. Maybe she didn't actually learn anything from that med student – though a general practitioner would probably be less of a self-centered fuckwad than a wannabe rockstar surgeon. But when you came down to it, the mustache ruined it completely.

Maru was with Demetrius in the lab, testing soil samples.

“Where from? I should probably give you one from the farm to see if I need to concentrate on nitrogen or phosphates or calcium or whatever. Winter seems like hell of a time to do it, what with the ground being hard.”

Maru went out to get some more samples or data or whatever. Once she was safely out of the room, Demetrius put down whatever he was doing and turned around with a certain air of the dramatic. It didn't suit him.

“Maru's a good kid. She's my special little girl...”

Confused, Saffron made some noncommittal conversational noise.

“I wouldn't want anything getting in the way of her bright future, know what I mean?”

Dafuk?

“No? Is there something getting in her way?” Saffron said. “She's such a hard worker, I can't imagine anything would stop her.”

Deflection successful. Demetrius just kinda deflated and turned back around.

The lab door opened again. “Sorry about that. I hope you found something to talk about while I was gone.”

“I was just telling Saffron about the soil samples we're testing,” Demetrius said, as if shit wouldn't melt in his mouth.

What a fucken nuisance. “You've got a lot of irons in the fire, Maru,” Saffron said pleasantly. “I hope you get enough downtime.”

“Penny says the same thing.”

“Oh, speaking of Penny, that's actually why I'm here,” she said brightly, in sharp contrast to the side eye she thrust at Demetrius. “I'm her Secret Santa this year, but I have no idea what she likes. Like, books and stuff, I guess, but what kind of books?”

Demetrius had the grace to look uncomfortable.

Maru sighed. “Her online wishlist is full of books for the kids.”

“Uh-oh. What does she like?”

Maru shook her head. “She reads a lot of YA, but I can't tell if it's because she likes them or researching for the kids. Jas is getting about that age. Oh,” she added, “she reads some of those historical fiction romances, but she hides them when I look. I think she's embarrassed.”

“I hope you don't read those things,” Demetrius grumbled. “It sets up unrealistic expectations for young girls for relationships.”

It took a solid amount of willpower for Saffron to refrain from rolling her eyes.

“Dad, she's more sensible than that,” Maru said, sticking up for her good friend. “I wish she could afford to get her teaching license and get a paying job.”

“Does that mean I can just get her a nice card and some cash? That'd be hella convenient.”

“I wish,” Demetrius put in. “I tried that one year, and it upset Lewis. He said it ruined the spirit of the holiday.”

“That's actually good to know.” Lewis is a touchy bitch about this, she wrote down in her notes. But when was he not?

“What about the classical romances? Jane Austen?” Maru asked.

“Chances are, if she likes Jane Austen, she already owns Jane Austen. Does she read manga?”

“I don't think so.”

“There we go. I'll get her some shojo or something. If she hates it, it can work for Jas.” She wrote down a final scribble and clapped her journal shut with a satisfied air. “Now the question is if I can get it delivered on time or if I have to take the bus to the city for this.”

That evening she lingered at the saloon, her excuse that she at least needed to buy Shane a beer for his help on the farm. How would Shane be as a boy toy? The fact she was considering it probably meant her standards were shot to hell. He was too much A Project, and even if he was just a FWB, he needed a therapist more than he needed a lay. You'd think she'd learned better about FWB arrangements after that dumb fucking med student who was not going to be named.

“What?” His curt question called her back to reality.

“Sorry, I was spacing out in your general direction.”

After buying Shane another beer, she drifted over to Leah. She was tempted, oh so tempted, to have drunken girl talk with Leah, but she had felt too many feelings today already, so she swallowed the vulnerability on the tip of her tongue.

And maybe she wasn't entirely sober when she came home to hear Brome's rich voice half-singing, half humming some song that made her bite her lip. She hid under the pile of itchy blankets dug up from the closet to replace the comforter Tam had torn up.

Chapter Text

Saffron's main goal in visiting the Night Market was getting a leg up on next year's planting by stocking up on seeds early from the shadowy, creepy weirdo who set up shop next to that “famous” painter Lupini, whatever the hell “famous” was supposed to mean in that context. Leah seemed to know who the hell he was, but he didn't seem to be part of her artsy hipster clique.

She saw Cart Lady behind Willy's shop, and Cart Lady energetically waved her over. Curious, Saffron obeyed, pulling up next to a guy in a cloak, of all things.

“Hello Saffron, glad to see you again. Could I ask you a favor? This is Conan.”

Contrary to expectations, Conan was a glasses-wearing dweeb and not at all muscley. The cloak and cosplayer-looking boots and multi-day stubble made him look like a basement-dwelling nerdwad who'd emerged for Ren faire day.

Cart Lady continued, “He's staying in town a few more days, but he needs a place to stay. Could you see if anyone could put him up a few nights? I would have asked Rasmodius, but I guess he's out of town.”

The small hairs on the back of Saffon's neck stood up, but she kept her face straight.

“I know we've never really talked about it, dear, but Conan's one of our kind of people, so I don't think it would be safe to involve any of the...other townspeople.”

“You make us sound like cultists, Yuna,” Conan said, chuckling. He had a lot nicer voice than Saffron expected, but that was probably douchey of her.

Oh shit, that was Cart Lady's name. It had been so long, and Cart Lady so casually friendly, that Saffron had felt like a fuckwad needing to ask for her name again. But something else caugh her attention belatedly. “Wait, I'm an 'our kind of people?'”

“Well, Rasmodius wouldn't have approached you if you weren't. And even if Marlon's not exactly in our same...interest group, he's in a related field, like your grandfather was.”

“Grandpa was an 'our people' too? I don't think he ever mentioned it.” But Grandpa was a fucking weirdo, she thought fondly. It seemed up his alley.

“I would appreciate it,” Conan said. “As much as Pelican Town's trying to rebrand itself as a tourist destination, you'd think they'd put in a bed-and-breakfast or something.”

“I wonder why Lewis hasn't done anything about it. No wait, that would involve a shitload of money, so it's not actually a mystery at all.”

“Anyway, I'd owe you a favor, dear, if you'd let him bunk with Brome.”

Saffron couldn't see that she had an actual good reason to refuse, as much as she might hope for one. Acting suspicious about either Wizard's disappearance or Brome in particular would probably make things worse. But she made sure to take out her journal and scribble down YUNA with some heavy underlining.

Brome seemed to have no particular feelings about a magic-flavored stranger as a guest, and she wasn't sure if that was a relief or not. Tam, however, was much less ambiguous. He started barking as soon as he heard a strange foot on the porch floor. And being a shepherd-labro-husko-whatever, he had a pretty intimidating bark.

“Stay here a second,” she said, and Conan nodded emphatically. “No, Tam. Hell no. None of that.” She bodyblocked the doorway. “Get back, Tamerlane. Get back.” She tried to channel calm and hoped that she wouldn't get her ass bit instead.

The barking subsided into growling, but started up again when Conan made any kind of vague move. “We aren't doing that.” She took him by the collar and half pulled, half linebacker-pushed him into the bedroom.

“Sorry about that.”

“No worries.”

“Do you need food?” Brome asked.

Conan chuckled a little nervously. “Honestly, yes. It's late, but I've been on the road all day.”

“Bathroom's to the right, by the way.” Omelets were fast, she thought, and not too heavy before bed. How many spare blankets were there now that Tam had shredded her comforter? She had enough towels, but the only proper bed in the cabin was Brome's. How were they gonna parse that one out?

“Saffron.” Brome touched her shoulder. “What's worrying you?”

She let out a breath and tried to unclench her jaw. “They know Wizard's missing. I can't – I --”

“They won't hurt you,” he said softly. “I'll be sure of it.”

She hated how much her voice shook. “Don't – don't do anything to Conan. To make him suspicious or --”

“He's at your hearth as a guest. If he's a proper guest,” his tone shifted slightly, “he will not do anything to insult his host.”

“He'll probably figure out that you're...of the forest kin,” she said, trying to use the proper euphemism.

“That's no concern of his.” He squeezed her shoulders affectionately. “He can do nothing to me.” He took up a knife and began chopping mushrooms for the omelets.

And Conan was a very good guest. The way he scarfed down the food was gratifying and was complimentary about everything he saw. He chatted easily enough for someone who looked like a shut-in loser, even if they fell back on normie shit like the weather of Pelican Town. As if Saffron had the room to criticize anyone for being a reclusive weirdo, for one who barely left her farm to buy soap.

“What brings you here, if it's okay if I ask?” Saffron said.

“No, it's okay. I came to the mines for materials and to study a bit.”

“Study under the Wizard – Rasmodius?” she asked, tensing again.

“No, we're not in the same subject. I was hoping to stay with him, though, but...well, this field is full of eccentrics. It's not that strange for them to piss off somewhere without telling anyone. But it's really inconvenient.”

He was delighted by the fact she had a bathtub. “One of my few affordable pleasures,” he said. “Would you happen to have a razor I could use? I feel like I need to be presentable now that I have the chance.”

“Do you care if it's pink?” Not that she'd shaved in a long-ass time; her multipack of disposable razors was barely touched.

“Not at all.”

“Feel free to use any of the soap or shampoo.”

But if quitting worrying was that easy, everybody would do it. She took Tam out to potty while the stranger was in the bathtub and shoved him back in the bedroom with plenty of time to spare. Was it too late to crate-train? Was it too late for fucking anything?

“Saffron.” Brome touched her shoulder again. “It will be all right.”

Chapter Text

“So you didn't grow up here?” Conan said, watching over the half-door of the slime hutch.

“Nah, Mom didn't like the country. Too inconvenient. She does have a point. Move your butt, Green.” She nudged him back from crowding the water tubs while she filled them.

“You only have the one?”

“Haven't found another egg in the wild yet. Can't afford to buy an egg from a breeder, I could expand my entire fucking house for that. And that's not a guarantee, either. I had to put down one because it was too aggressive.”

“It makes sense. Any other slime operation I've seen, they're never in contact with the slimes. None of them would set foot in the pens with the slimes. They'd herd them into a new pen before they collected the drops.”

“Part of me sympathizes, but I've already bought into the hippie-dippie crap about sustainable, de-industrialized agriculture over profit-hunting. Goddammit.”

He snorted. “You seem pretty comfortable to me, but I'm biased because I'm pretty much homeless.”

“I guess I shouldn't ask what wizarding pays.”

“Until three months ago, I was stocking shelves at a Joja Mart.”

“Oh shit. Congrats on your escape?”

Luckily the manga were delivered by mail in time for the Wintermas festival. The second panic came when she realized she had nothing to wrap it in and no time to order anything for it. Marnie saved her ass with wrapping and ribbon left over from Jas's gifts. Giving Penny a plain brown mailing box would more than likely ruin the spirit of the holiday in Lewis's eyes.

She did get roped into going into the mines with Conan, but the pacing was about 200% more chill with him than with Lucis, given that he was grinding for loot, not for killcount. It coincided with her goals for the whole hunter-gatherer thing. She'd never had the time to fish in the underground lakes before, and apparently these weird-ass fish were also wizardly ingredients in certain niche areas of wizarding.

Conan already seemed to know Marlon and Gus a little bit.

“Well, I know people who know them,” he explained as they were trudging back to the farm.

“God, I could go for a soak in the spa, but it's nasty to have to change back into your old clothes. I guess I'll have to settle for my tub. I guess I'll have to fight you for my tub, too.”

“You can go first.”

“A good host should let their guest go first.”

“You don't have to worry so much about that.”

She sighed. “I'm not used to this whole hosting thing.”

“Even with Brome?”

“Okay, I've gotten used to him. I'm not used to you.”

She waved at Linus, who was heading back to his tent. He waved back.

“What's that guy's deal?”

“I dunno, he's just some super-crunchy, survivalist type. I dunno if 'survivalist' is the right word. I genuinely don't know if he's mentally ill or not, but he's cool. He showed me how to make really good fish bait. I mean, he's not hurting anything out here. Hell, he's hurting it less than us normies are.”

He blew out a fogged breath. “Hard to believe it's almost time for the Feast of the Star.”

“Are you coming to the dinner tomorrow? You don't have to, I know it's weird to be the newcomer.”

“Are you kidding? It's free food. I'm not so far gone that I can't behave in normie company.”

Well, that was one way to describe that Wizard asshole. She cut off that thought before it went further.

Feastday dawned clear and cold and picturesque and all three of them trudged out in the fresh ankle-deep snow to make it to town in time for a horribly unseasonable al fresco dinner. She had never been sure why they couldn't have this damn thing inside the saloon – hell, they had the community center now. Why the fuck were they going to the effort of setting up tables and fighting against nature while stringing out waterproof extension cords for the crock pots and chafing dishes so the food didn't turn barbarously cold?

And as it turned out, Penny was her Secret Santa and as as her being Penny's Secret Santa. Penny gave her quite a nice tea set. Saffron wasn't a coffee person, but she wasn't much of a tea person, but this was the kind of season to experiment with hot drinks. Caroline took notice and somehow produced a tin of tea bags out of thin air, so they had an impromptu tea party between the three of them (and also Brome) at one of the tables.

But Pierre abruptly showed up and leaned over to mutter something distressed in Caroline's ear.

“Hold on, what?”

Conscious of their questioning looks, Pierre pulled her to one side.

“Dad!” Abigail called out after him, but turned aside with gritted teeth when he ignored her.

Naturally, everyone wanted to be nosy without appearing to be nosy, so it was enormously gratifying when Abigail did the IRL equivalent of breaking the fourth wall and just outright called out, “Yes, I want to move to an apartment in the city with Sam and Sebastian! Who cares if they're guys? We've been friends since we were in diapers!”

Saffron could understand Pierre's grimace at having the laundry aired in public, but honestly the deliciousness of the schadenfreude outweighed it by far.

Pierre's tactic was to appeal to the other parents. “Have you agreed to this?”

Jodie reached in. “I knew they were looking at apartments, but I didn't know it was for all of them.”

Robin made sounds of agreement and confirmation. It seemed like it was the first time Demetrius and Kent were hearing about it, though.

“Would you want your little girl to live with boys?” Pierre appealed to them, Demetrius in particular.

It did succeed in getting an instant nonverbal response, but he seemed to restrain himself from making a knee-jerk verbal one. Which, good for him.

“I'm not a little girl!”

It was a cliché line with cliché delivery, but it didn't make her point invalid. It still made Saffron feel old.

But Lewis wasn't gonna have his picturesque community holiday ruined, so he broke it up, with Caroline herding Pierre into the chair next to hers.

He was still trying to fish for sympathy. “I'm sure you see where I'm coming from.”

She couldn't resist the urge. It was having the last word several years too late to an argument with an entirely different person, but this situation dredged up some old shit. “When is she allowed to make decisions you don't like, then? In her thirties?”

“You're not a parent.”

“Nope,” she agreed readily, “but that's not actually a logical argument and you know it.”

“Sebastian smokes,” he said almost sullenly.

“Oh wow, smoking. Next thing you know she'll be picking up loose morals from the moving picture shows.”

He turned red and just left. Penny shifted uncomfortably.

Caroline sighed, “He may be overreacting, but I don't really like it either. She didn't tell me. Not anything.”

“Because she knew what the reaction would be?” That shot hit bullseye, and maybe she was taking this proxy war too far. Caroline didn't stay much longer than Pierre did, but she said goodbye politely and told Saffron to keep the extra tea bags.

“I guess it's topical to ask if you have any yen for the city life?” Saffron asked Penny, figuring she might as well lean into the awkwardness.

“No, not really.” Penny still wasn't looking up from her teacup. “I like how quiet the country is.”

Was that the answer she fobbed all the adults off with when they asked her about career plans? For the second time in less than an hour, Saffron felt old. She wasn't even old enough to feel old, dammit.