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Chapter Text

The crowd erupted in cheers as Hootsie finished the last trick of their night show; a graceful summersault from where she'd previously stood in a handstand on Gideons thick bicep. Her four paws hit the wooden floor with a resounding 'thump' and Gricko let out a heavy sigh of relief. He'd seen her do that trick a hundred times, christ, he was the one who taught it to her, yet until that noise reached his ears he was always just as tense as the audience. Oh for the neverending worries of a single parent.

Kremy strode up to the front of the stage to go through the usual end-of-show theatrics; gesturing to the performers, smooth-talking the audience, holding out his hat for tips, etcetera, etcetera. After Gricko had heard his que to bow it all just became white noise to his ears. For the last couple of days all their shows had stuck unusually close to routine, which meant he’d heard this drivel hundreds of times already. In fact, the only recent excitement they'd gotten was a gambling disagreement that got out of hand and was far too entertaining to stop. It was the closest thing to a daily schedule Gricko had ever had, which he in all honesty found quite boring. Knowing Kremy though, it wouldn’t take long for the penny to drop and they'd be back on the run again.

He waved at the dispersing crowd as they made their way towards the tent's exit, occasionally throwing a wink and a "call me" gesture to any girl he found particularly eye-catching. Not that he planned to follow up on it, of course, not in front of Hootsie. But in the rare case that someone would return on another night, well, that was another story.

Not everyone seemed to be of the same mind set, though. As Gricko turned to his companions to throw out a suggestion for drinks, he saw not two of his co-performers, but one. The other was down in front of the stage with his arms thrown around a giddy woman's shoulders with an absurd amount of pins and shiny pearls in her hair. Surprisingly, that man wasn’t Gideon.

"Hey Gideon?" Gricko asked, his brows furrowed. "Why does Kremy only ever take a partner on the last day we're in town?"

"Huh?" Gideon's eyes snapped up to scan the crowd. "Oh, well would you look at that. Better tell Frost to pack his books. Guess we're outta here."

"That’s what I mean!" Gricko threw up his hands. " Everytime he beds someone, he comes running back with gold or jewels or something, and we're gone before the sun sets. I mean, I know he's like objectively a scumbag, but I can’t help but feel bad for him, ya know?" He sighed and crouched beside Hootsie to scratch her cheek. She looked back at him with blissful, round eyes. "He might not be conventionally attractive to most humanoids on account of the whole crocodile thing," Gricko mused, "but he's a smooth talker, and evidently some are into that. He could charm the pants off anyone he wanted at any time of day but just… chooses not to. If he only does it for the money's sake then that’s no way to live! And before you say anything, I know that's his whole thing, but… I wish he'd just relax, ya know?"

Gideon scratched his beard for a second, looking down at the grass. "Ehhh, better not think too deeply about Kremy's personal business." He shrugged. "For his sake as much as yours."

"I know, I know, it’s just… When was the last time he really took a break?"

"Probably in some street corner where no soul could see him." Gideon slapped him lightly on the shoulder, 'lightly' for him being enough for Gricko to nearly topple over. "Wanna grab a drink before we move out?"

Gricko's face lit up. "Sounds absolutely lovely."

Not even half an hour had passed when the late night calmness of a crummy tavern was broken, as the door was thrown open so violently that it smashed into the inner wall. On the other side stood a pissed, out of breath, alligator man, whose pockets were noticeably fuller than they’d been before.

"GID, GRICKO!" He shouted. "Where the hell have you guys been?"

"Just here in the taver-" Gricko began.

"Don't wanna hear it! We got eight minutes, eight minutes, people, to pack up shop. Go! Go! Go!"

Gideon downed his whiskey glass in one swig and strode over to the door without so much as a second glance back. Gricko looked down solemnly at his half-drunken Chardonnay before leaving it at the table. At least he’d gotten a free pass on payment. His sharp ears picked up the weak protests of the wrinkly tavern owner that faltered before the end of his sentence. After all, it didn’t take a lot of preservation skills to know not to go up against a man who’s gape could swallow your head and then some in one bite, or the guy who got twice your bulk in muscle mass alone.

"You had a good time at least, Kremy?" Gricko asked as they passed each other by the door.

"Yeah, yeah, sure, just hurry up !" He ushered the both of them towards their striped tent in the distance. "Seven minutes, come on!"

Gricko sighed. That was a no, then. But the event had sparked an idea in his mind. He'd always thought himself a pretty good matchmaker, and if anyone could find Kremy the right gal, or whoever he desired, it would be him. What’s the worst that could happen?

The Goldenbrew tavern got wild on Fridays, and it was only in part because of the inherent rambunctious energy that a Friday brings. Safe to say, the owners knew their crowd, and that the cost of buying new tables was far outweighed by the money earned from the patrons who only came to watch the chaos unfold. On that one day out of the week, their varnished mahogany tables were switched out for cheap rough-hewn oak furniture that would most likely be in splinters by the next day. On top of that, the no-weapons policy was as loose as a hanging bowstring as long as a bit of coin was involved, and while the staff all carried weapons for self-defense, they wouldn’t lift as much as a finger to deal with an overzealous drunk or upsurging violence. They just served drinks and reaped the rewards.

All four main members of the Carnival Lecroux were of course frequent visitors of the 'Golden Friday', but all for different reasons. Gideon liked to take part in the action himself and was often even the instigator of the brawl, while Gricko was more of the observing type unless he got caught in the crossfire. However, while the tavern was torn to shreds in a loud, messy whirlwind of yelling and all types of materials breaking upon impact, Frost and Kremy sat in complete silence.

"Your move." Frost pointed out; the first sentence he'd spoken in an hour. 

"Yeah, I fucking know alright?" Kremy bit back, not tearing his eyes from the chessboard in front of him.

It had been thirty-six minutes since Frost had moved his knight. It was their longest round yet. Kremy didn’t normally take this long to make a play, and Frost firmly believed it was a deliberate choice in lieu of stupidity. Kremy was trying to test his patience, knowing full well that Frost had spent years and years honing it and making his mind as sharp and alert as it could possibly be at any given time. But Kremy didn’t need him to be bored. He just wanted one moment of weakness, one second of zoning out so that he could-

"Foul." Frost stated, spotting the black pawn moving its way out of Kremy's sleeve.

"God dammit." Kremy cursed as his chin fell to rest in his hands dejectedly.

See, this was not a normal game of chess, if it was, Frost would’ve easily won every time. Instead it was an alternative playstyle where cheating was part of the rules. Kremy, having mastered that craft long ago, was allowed to cheat as long as Frost didn’t call him on it with the key-word "foul". It posed a great challenge for them both. Kremy had held the upper hand during their first few games, but as Frost began to learn his patterns, the win toll was leaning increasingly in his favor instead. So much so that they now exclusively played at the tavern to provide further distractions for Frost.

"Your move-"

"How 'bout you shut the fuck up, you big cat?"

Frost suppressed a smirk as Kremy groaned, visibly frustrated. Then, suddenly, his whole posture changed, as if he'd noticed something, and he turned around to face the main body of the tavern. Frost followed his gaze, but saw only the mosh pit of drunk brawlers and a few scattered onlookers by the bar.

"Stay here, I'll be right back." Kremy hopped off the stool and briskly made his way over to the bar, ducking for glass bottle projectiles and the occasional swing as he did.

Frost was mildly surprised to see him chat up one of the patrons, a dark haired elvish man, in a decidedly flirtatious fashion. Were it anyone else in their party, he'd simply have assumed that he'd seen a pretty face and taken the chance of getting some action instead of facing defeat, and while he certainly didn’t put that beyond Kremy, he’d learned by now that the man usually had a further agenda with everything he did. He kept watching them, and lo and behold; soon Kremy was sauntering back with a tray carrying two drinks. 

"Hey, got us some free booze!" He pushed aside the chess board to make room for the tray.

"Oh. Thank you." Frost picked up his glass. It looked like milk, although slightly clearer, and had the unmistakable smell of rum. It was one of his favorite mixes of liquid.

"Oh, don't mention it." Kremy answered. "It was the gambler's instincts, see; I knew I felt someone staring at me. From there it was a piece o' cake, the fate of his coin purse was sealed when he decided to make flirty-eyes with Kremy Lecroux."

Frost hummed. "Your play is smart, but it’s as see-through as this glass." He tapped it twice with his claw. "If I drink this you will make a move when I'm unable to see nor make the audible call-out. Therefore, I will resist this temptation."

"You think I can’t do something nice for my friend just for the sake of it?" Kremy swirled the whiskey in his own glass.

"No comment."

"Worth a shot, then." He sighed, and once again turned his full attention to the game.

As the silence dragged on, Frost, much to his chagrin, found that his curiosity had been piqued. Never before had he heard Kremy talk about flirting in such an open manner, if anything he always seemed to approach the subject quite reluctantly. He spared a quick glance at the elven gentlemen at the bar, but found that he seemed to be already looking in their direction. They inevitably made eye contact, and the other man quickly turned away. Now, Frost typically avoided talking during the game, as it gave his opponent a free distraction, but you know what they say about curiosity and cats.

"Are you gonna go back to him?" He asked.

"Who? Oh, the elvish guy? I mean, sure, if I want another drink." Kremy shrugged. 

"Just drinks, then?"

"Hm?" Kremy shot him a look of confusion before the realization hit, upon which his face tightened in irritation. "Yes, of course just drinks! God, who do you take me for, I got a business to run! You’re starting to sound like Gricko!"

Frost raised his flat palm in surrender. "My apologies."

"Just take your goddamn turn."

"But…”, he furrowed his brows in confusion, “It's your move."

Kremy's mock-provocation slid away to reveal a true self-satisfied grin. "I've moved thrice , friend." He held up the white knight between two fingers.

Frost's jaw fell open. "How?"

Kremy chuckled. "A magician never reveals his secrets, but… I can never pass up the opportunity to make you feel stupid." He leaned forward and held up one finger. "First time; there's no such thing as a gambler's sixth sense, I just looked over my shoulder, figurin’ you were gonna look too, and made my move. I just hoped to god I'd find someone semi-eligible for my plan. I mean, he did buy us the drinks, but not without some convincing." He put up another finger. "Second time; moving the board. Kinda surprised you didn’t notice that one, actually. Guess the rum-smell stole your attention, I told the bartender to add extra." He held up a third finger. "You walked right into that one. Wasn’t sure if you were gonna take the bait and ask, but I'm so very glad you did." He held up a fourth finger. "And the fourth was during this very conversation. Check."

Frost leaned back into his chair, impressed and more than a little humbled. "Well played, Kremy Lecroux."

"Game's not over yet, Mornin' Frost."

Chapter Text

Gideon walked out of the woods and into the yellow torchlight on a stone-paved road. He made a half-hearted attempt at wiping the blood off his hands on a nearby streetlight before shoving them in his pockets instead, and took a deep breath of fresh air. It was a nice night. A full moon shone among the clear stars, and the town was completely silent except for the faint goblin screams far behind him. Now standing in the light, the area outside seemed a deep void of blackness, almost like another world.

He went off to find Kremy, but eventually stopped in his tracks when he saw the window to their shared room in the tavern was completely dark. He kept walking onwards, although hesitantly, on the off-chance that Kremy had simply stolen a drink from the bar while it was closed. …Ok, maybe not 'off-chance', but he liked to think Kremy would've invited him first. Once he'd entered, he was pleased to find the inside completely empty aside from the bugbear janitor passed out by a corner table. What was his name again? Thor? Torben? Turkey? No matter. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the counter and headed back outside. 

After checking the tent, the town square, and the tavern again just to be safe, he finally found his friend sitting on the edge of their wagon, one leg hanging out the side and shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. The lantern hanging from the roof painted a rather pristine picture, with Kremy coated in light contrasting the darkness outside.

"So this is where you've been hiding." Gideon walked up and leaned against the brim of the wagon, facing his friend.

Kremy's eyes slid up for a quick, observing glance before falling right back to the cards. "Wasn’t aware I was being looked for."

Gideon nodded towards where he sat. "You mind?"

Kremy didn’t respond, but scooted back to give him space to sit. The wood groaned beneath Gideons weight as he made himself comfortable and rested his back against a box of cargo. He let a couple beats of silence pass between them, basking in the night chill and the comfortability they had grown throughout the years of traveling together. The sounds of the shuffling cards filled the air. 'Thrrrrip'. 'Thrrrrip'.

"You should really thank me, you know." Gideon said.

"Thank you? For what?"

"For bringing booze." He held up the whiskey bottle and uncorked it with a single flick of his thumb.

Kremy snapped the cards together into a neat stack with a 'thwack'. "Bring it here."

Gideon passed it over and watched Kremy bring it to the corner of his mouth where his teeth parted just enough to fit the bottleneck. After a few clunks he handed it back, and Gideon brought it to his lips. They kept the same pattern going.

"I managed to dissuade Gricko from another courting attempt, by the way." Gideon commented during one of Kremy's rounds with the bottle.

Kremy groaned from the unoccupied corner of his mouth. " Again? Thought the last time would be enough to shut it down for good."

"Well, apparently not. That goblin's nothing if not persistent."

Kremy huffed and pulled the bottle out with a 'pop' . "You’re telling me. How'd you do it, anyways?"

Gideon smirked. "Gave Hootsie food poisoning."

" HA! That'll do it. Man, wish I had thought of that."

"Just wait 'til you hear about what I used."

Kremy's eyes glistened, beckoning him to continue.

"Well I was going to the woods to deal with the, uh, leftovers , like you told me to,” Gideon explained, “when I noticed Hootsie was following me. Thought I might as well kill two birds with one stone if you catch my drift."

"She ate the leftovers ?" Kremy's gape opened in a baffled grin, and his eyes gleamed with pride. "Gid, you are a cruel, cruel man." He said, which, coming from him, was as close to a compliment you could get.

"Learned from the best." Gideon shrugged, though his chest felt slightly warmer than usual. He cleared his throat in a very manly fashion to smother those feelings immediately.

"But hey, if you really want him to stop," he decided to change the subject, "then you should really tell him the reason."

Kremy sighed and took another swig before speaking. "Maybe. He just feels like the kind of guy who'd make the Comments. "

"The comments?"

" The Comments."

Gideon felt out of the loop for sure, but didn’t push it further. "He means well, you know?" He said instead. "From everyone else's perspective it looks like you never stop, and he wants to help in the way he knows. Just like I did, once."

"Yeah. Still kinda pissed at you for that one." He tossed over the bottle.

"Yeah…" Gideon chuckled, then stopped abruptly. "Wait, are you actually? It's hard to tell with you sometimes. I know I've said sorry but I could do it again if there’s like a number I should-"

"No, no, it's fine Gid, just messin' with you." Kremy interrupted. "Was a long time ago anyways."

"True that." A memory brought to life made the corners of Gideons lips curl into a smile. "The 'erect lobster'," he chuckled, "fucking brilliant.", and brought the bottle to his lips.

Two years earlier…

Gideon knew he had game with women. He had the looks and the confidence for it, and most importantly a rather extensive track record of experience. Still, it was always a nice ego boost to gain the attention of someone who could very well be out of his league.

She was a drow elf that matched his height in heels, wearing a starry night dress with a V neckline framing a family crest amulet between her breasts. It wasn't a symbol he recognized, but from the way she carried herself he thought it was safe to say that it was important. Plus "Ereldra'' was one of the poshest names he'd ever heard. The best part of the whole ordeal, though, was that she had a friend . A friend who seemed very enthusiastic about meeting his friend, who Gideon firmly believed needed to get laid. She was the shyer type, tiefling, and covered from head to toe in pastel. He wouldn’t have pegged her as Kremy's "type", but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

He strolled up to him by the poker tables with the ladies in tow, Ereldra leaning on his shoulder and her friend following closely behind.

"Hey boss," he called out, "I got some people I'd like you to meet."

Kremy didn’t look up from shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. "It'll have to wait, Gid, I'm just about to start a game."

"I don't think these girls have the patience for that, friend."

The moving cards stilled as Kremy finally looked up with a skeptical expression. His eyes flicked between the three of them. "What is this, Gid?"

" This ," Gideon nodded to his right, "is-"

"Ereldra." She finished for him.

"Minty." The other one said, with a quieter, timid voice.

"Right." Kremy sighed. "Ereldra, Minty, I'm sure you’re both lovely people, but-"

He seemed to catch himself as his eyes landed on a point far below Ereldra's eye-level, so to speak. 'Finally' , Gideon thought. Even men like Kremy couldn’t go untempted by everything.

"If my eyes don’t deceive me, that’s the sigil of the Zaut'tar family, correct?"

Gideon internally groaned. Hoped too soon. It was the notorious charlatan Lecroux, after all.

"It is." She responded. Gideon couldn’t see her face from how she was leaning, but he thought he felt her tone shift into something colder than before. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"No, not in the slightest. However…," Kremy stood up from his chair in a quick, smooth motion. "I am curious. Isn’t it tradition that all Zaut'tar children are planned into arranged marriages since, or even before, birth? You're clearly above the age of legal marriage, and though I can’t exactly place your name, I am aware of the fact that no spouses of the twelfth generation are divorced or dead yet."

Gideon felt Ereldra go stiff beside him. This was a mistake, what had he been thinking ? Throwing away the chance in a lifetime for the sake of helping his boss? He shot Kremy a look as to say ' don’t you dare' , but was completely ignored. Fucking figures.

"Now, lucky for you, Kremy Lecroux is many things but he's not a snitch." He slowly got closer as he spoke. "I just wonder the ' why'. Did he cheat on you? Did he treat you badly? Or was he simply so boring that you thought it was worth it to parade the town wearing your family's crest on your chest, and hooking up with someone who'd give you more excitement in one night than you'd have in a lifetime spent in that dull excuse for a house they call a mansion?"

By now Kremy's face was kissing-distance from Ereldra's, and Gideon was getting more certain by the second that Kremy would end the night in a body bag. If Ereldra's goons wouldn’t do it, he would.

"You," she spat, "know nothing about my life. I carry this amulet because it's the quickest way to earn a man's respect. Call it cheap if you will, but it’s better than dressing in fancy clothes to hide the snake you really are."

Gideon's growing rage was momentarily subdued by that last comment, and suddenly he was torn between the lady of his wet dreams and defending the honor of his friend. Calling someone a ‘snake’ was a common insult against his species, and certainly unseemly whether it was deserved or not.

Kremy, however, seemed unperturbed. "Hey now, the only thing I believe for certain about you, is that you are a woman who gets what she wants. Or rather…", he winked, " Who she wants."

Both Gideon and Ereldra were taken aback by the sudden turn-around.

"My friend here is a charmer, and he will please you, no doubt. But on the off-chance that I'm correct…" He tossed up his staff to grip it horizontally, squeezing the skull knob tightly. "Then I could show you what the opposite of 'dull' really looks like." He smiled as he said it, showing off his long rows of sharp teeth.

For a couple seconds, everyone seemed to hold their breath. Then, to Gideon's great surprise, Ereldra slid off his arm. He could only watch, completely baffled, as she hooked her arm with Kremy's, and they made their way towards the stairs without so much as a second glance. Gideon blinked, trying to make sense of what had just happened. He did what he set out to do, but at what cost?

He was still kind of out of it when Minty cleared her throat. To be honest he'd completely forgotten she was there.

"Hey Gideon, I was just wondering if you're still… If you'd wanna…" She sighed. "Never mind."

"No, no, no, I'm still, I wanna, let's go." He hurriedly placed a hand on her shoulder, and they headed off in the same direction as the other lovebirds.

Later, Gideon laid in the bed of some poor sod's room they’d broken into, with Minty curled up against his side and a lit cigarette in his mouth. They’d gotten a solid four minutes of relaxing in the post-climax peace before a hard knocking on the door drew their attention. It was oddly slow, like the rhythm of a hammer.

"Probably the guy who lives here." Gideon muttered. "Don't worry, I locked it."

Minty looked as if she was about to say something, but was interrupted by more knocks, this time accompanied by a voice muffled beyond comprehension.

"Wait, that…" Minty said, listening. "That sounds like Ereldra!" She ripped off the covers, ignoring Gideon's mild protests, to make a haphazard dress while leaving him fully exposed on the bed.

She shuffled forward as fast as her coverage would allow her, and unlocked and opened the door. Forward fell Ereldra, bound in rope and gagged with a sock around her mouth. She was missing all her clothes and accessories except for her undergarments, and she looked pissed. Minty frantically pulled off the gag.

"He stole it!" Was the first thing she said. "The crest, he stole it!"

Gideon burst out laughing. "Of course he did, a goddamn little weasel, that-" But then abruptly stopped when he saw the stares of the women in front of him. Their expressions ranged from annoyed to enraged. "What I mean is uhh…", he stumbled out of the bed and started picking up his clothes with practiced expediency, "that I’m gonna go find him and go get it back for you miss, or, missus, I suppose. You just focus on getting out of all that and I’ll be back before you can say Gideon Coal!"

As soon he was out the door he stopped suppressing the grin forming on his face. Any grudge he'd had against Kremy had now faded and given in to pride. Really, he should have known this would happen. 

It wasn't hard to find him. Kremy sat behind a tree down the road, not too far from the tavern. The sky had darkened by now so that he would've completely blended into the surroundings were it not for his shiny suit. He'd switched from his usual fidget, the cards, to flipping a single gold coin. Gideon walked up and leaned against the trunk. 

"Pretty bad hiding spot considering the dogs on your trail." He said. "I can tell ya at least one of them bites."

"Hm. Lovely." Kremy said with unmissable distaste, not shifting his gaze an inch.

Gideon quirked his brow. This was odd. There was a tenseness in the air he hadn’t expected. "You alright, Boss?"

Kremy catched the coin and let it stay in his fist. He sighed. "Yeah. I'm fine, just… don’t do that again, Gid."

Gideon shuffled on his feet. "Oh, yeah, for sure. What did I do?"

"This time I got something out of it, so it's fine, but…” He paused, and took a steeling breath before continuing. “I don’t do the whole women thing, Gid. Or, anyone, for that matter. I just… I don’t like it. That’s all."

Suddenly Gideon found himself talking to the man he'd beat up, blackmailed and killed for, and feeling like an absolute ass. Out of all the times to feel guilt, he hadn’t expected it to come like this.

"Aw shit, I'm sorry. I only wanted to- well, it doesn’t really matter what I wanted, I suppose. I'm sorry in any case. Won’t do it again, I promise."

Kremy turned to look at him for the first time during their whole conversation. He seemed… confused? Surprised? Skeptical? It was hard to tell. Gideon even felt slightly self-conscious, a rarity for him, being so closely observed under those calculating eyes.

"What?" He said. "Did I say something wrong?"

Kremy shook his head slowly. "No, you… you didn’t, actually." He chuckled slightly and stuck his hand down his pocket. "Here, take this."

Gideon saw a glint of something small and golden flying towards him. He catched it easily and opened his hand to find the crest of Zaut'tar lying in his palm. 

He turned it over in his hand. "Not to be rude but what am I supposed to do with this?" 

Kremy shrugged. "Sell it, blackmail it, keep it. I think it would rather suit you if not for the affiliations."

Gideon hummed. It was a rather pretty crest; a red bird with its wings out, flying over a bronze sky background. A lighter circle that Gideon guessed was supposed to be the sun pointed out from the top, and at the bottom were a few tiny lines that looked almost like a broken chain. An unruly smile tugged on his lips, could he dare to assume he’d been given a compliment?

"So uh, what did the two of you even do in there?" Gideon said, putting the jewelry in his pocket and purging that rabbit hole before he could fall into it.

An all too familiar mischievous glint sparked in Kremy's eye. "Well, I found out a really helpful thing about sheltered rich folks. They’re so starved for excitement they'll believe anything. That’s to say I came up with a lot of fun 'foreplays' for us, well her, to do."

Gideon leaned forward, mirroring his friend's expression. "Tell. Me. Everything.”

He slid down into a sitting position against the trunk, excited to hear all about the the non-sexual escapades of his friend. A few noteworthy examples were the ‘slithery swan’, the lesser known cousin of the 69, ‘the 58’, and his personal favorite; ‘the erect lobster’. And if he sometimes picked up the crest when no one saw, even years later, just to look at it and remind himself, well that was no-one's business but his own.